


[Prompted or Not]

by gloriousrumpoflife



Category: Akatsuki no Yona
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Genderbending, Multi, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-03-19 11:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 26,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3608802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloriousrumpoflife/pseuds/gloriousrumpoflife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of tumblr drabbles.</p><p>Ch. 1 - The dragon gods find their warriors.<br/>Ch. 2 - Hak and Shinah sharing a meal.<br/>Ch. 3 - Jae-ha, his erhu, and 3 curious dragons.<br/>Ch. 4 - Zeno, wondering about the distant future.<br/>Ch. 5 - Jae-ha and Kija, Modern AU<br/>Ch. 6 - How Ayura and Tetora met.<br/>Ch. 7 - Granny & Gigan meet.<br/>Ch. 8 - Modern AU trans* Kija.<br/>Ch. 9 - Zeno and his dragon brothers<br/>Ch. 10 - Gigan teaching Jae-ha how to swim.<br/>Ch. 11 - Guen-tae is injured in battle.<br/>Ch. 12 - Genderbend Jaeki.<br/>Ch. 13 - A flower crown for Tae-jun.<br/>Ch. 14 - Modern AU, Shin-ah adopts a stray.<br/>Ch. 15 -  Jae-ha decides to surprise Yun (pre-relationship).<br/>Ch. 16 - Hak, falling for Yona.<br/>Ch. 17 - gs!Abi and Shuten growing closer<br/>Ch. 18 - Kyo-ga and Tae-woo</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> short drabble written in light of zeno’s flashback chapter. Don't read if you don't want spoilers~

The dragon gods mourned as they watched their world collapse. Humans, once such innocent, hopeful creatures, removed limbs and drank blood in the place of clean water. The dragon gods mourned as the earth, a vibrant place beneath their celestial clouds, stood scorched, trampled by feet they failed to protect. The dragons god seethed, for many things. They seethed for traitorous people; for their faulted sanctity; for their love gone to waste.

Hiryuu, so young, so strong, cherished what good was left. Holding it in his claws, burning bright in his splendor, he cared for the small seed of hope. He nurtured. He adored. He became. With a final goodbye and a golden medallion, he abandoned weightless clouds for dead grass. He planted the seed in earth which would grow no more. Hiryuu, so young, so foolish—so brave.

The seed did not grow. Blood could not nourish. Tears were not enough. Only bodies underground could provide pabulum. But Hiryuu would not be proved wrong. He adored despite it all. The dragon gods seethed.

"Hiryuu! We have come for you! Return to the Heavens and destroy the humans who have forgotten to cherish and heed the gods."

But love he still did. He looked upon the humans holding spears and blades to his throat, and he loved. The dragon gods mourned. But love him they still did.

So they passed their blood to the very humans who had forgotten them. Hakuryuu, to a mercenary, with ties to no one, yet loyal to a fault. He would not betray those he loved, and love Hiryuu he would. Seiryuu, to a villager struggling to survive. Physically incapable, but with eyes to attract. Those eyes would do well to destroy the millions who dared to harm the human Hiryuu. Ryoukuryuu, to a vigilante, with a harsh heart, yet with aspirations as far as the heavenly skies. He was finicky, but his hopes reached Hiryuu, and that was enough. Together, they would protect. They would shelter and save the fragile body of Hiryuu. They would serve until the end of their days.

But Ouryuu was smart. He knew humans died, but gods did not. Hiryuu may die, but his spirit would find another home. The humans, in their finite, impatient nature, would not find reason to remain with the shell of a god’s corporeal body. Ouryuu would not abandon Hiryuu, even if many a millennium passed before his return.

To a small priestly boy, then, did the blood of the Yellow Dragon go. He had barely lived through fifteen winters, but he had survived, nonetheless. He loved as deeply and as continuously as Hiryuu. His heart was strong where his body was not. For him, the small priestly boy, who looked upon a dragon god with such awe and reverence, Ouryuu blessed ~~cursed~~ with immortality ~~with never-ending sorrow~~. He would be the one to nurture Hiryuu’s buried seed where the god could not. He would be the one to carry on the legacy of the gods. He would be the one to defy the limits of human life, as a god ought to do.

The Ouryuu was smart. The Ouryuu was very smart.

(And Zeno, that small priestly boy, he was so very hopeless.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In all technicality, this was prompted by yuaiya xD

“Hey, Shinha, there’s some leftovers. You want some?”

Shinha looked up from his spot to see Hak approaching him with two bowls of Yun’s food. The grasshopper he had been watching jumped away, cobweb wings fluttering with every hop. Ao squeaked in shock and chased after the escaping insect. Hak stared after the scampering squirrel as he sat next to Shinha and handed a bowl to him.

Shinha mumbled thanks. He picked up the pair of chopsticks resting in the bowl and stirred the soup with them. Beside him, Hak fished out blades of herbs from the broth and chewed them slowly, perfectly content to sit in silence. Shinha, however, was confused. While he was still hungry, so he appreciated the extra food, he didn’t understand why the leftovers were being brought to _him_. Zeno, after all, was always asking for more, more, more! And Yona was so small in comparison to the rest of the group. She would benefit from the food, so she could grow up big and strong—at least, that’s what Ao had said to Shinha when he was a child and was still picky about what he ate. The logic applied to a sixteen year old girl, right?

Then again, Hak had been strange lately. Typically, he kept to himself, except when he was approached first or when Yona was involved. But, as of the past few weeks, he had been purposefully seeking out Shinha. At times, he would turn to the silent Seiryuu and ask him for a favor, or he would tell him to sharpen or clean his blade. Whenever Shinha practiced, Hak would come up to watch or would join him, studying the way he swung his sword and sometimes copying him with his own spear. And then there were the times when Shinha would go off on his own to watch the sunset and the moonrise, and Hak would join him.

“You’ve been coming out here a lot, lately,” Hak suddenly spoke up. Shinha looked at him from behind his mask. In the dying sunlight, in the strong shades of deep orange and hints of glimmering red, Hak appeared a hero of the ending day. In the paintings of men that Shinha occasionally found in market towns, those colors accentuated warriors in all their bravery and valor. They were unbeatable, and for that, they were revered. In the sunset, Hak looked just like them.

The former general glanced at Shinha. “Has something been bothering you?” he asked. Shinha tilted his head. Hak stared at him for a long moment, then shrugged. “Guess not.”

He returned to eating, but Shinha kept his eyes on him. It was strange, somehow, to know that Hak seemed worried about him. “Why…” he began with a mumble. Hak made a noise of curious acknowledgement. “…are you… worried…?”

Hak swallowed his food. “Of course I am,” he answered quickly. “We’re friends.”

Warmth flooded Shinha’s chest. “Friends…?” Yona and Yun had called him their friends before, and Kija-nii had called him his younger brother, but it was nice, so very nice, to hear another person call him a friend.

Hak nodded. “Yep.” He tapped the bottom of Shinha’s bowl with the dry end of his chopsticks. “Eat up already, before Yun figures out where the rest of the food went.”

Shinha nodded and chowed down.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Green!
> 
> Song referenced in the part with Zeno: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hsvzzolvwMo

He was fifteen when he had first held the erhu. He had taken it from the hands of a homeless man who had died over a cold, spring night. The man had always been alone, resting his tired back in an alleyway across from Gigan’s home. His music had made the daily tedium of teasing Gigan, doing her errands, and jumping into the sky a little less boring. So, when he had taken the erhu from the man, he had tried to play him a farewell song, something to soothe his departed soul. It had been the least he could do.

Of course, when you’re fifteen, have spent most of your life chained to a wall, and have little patience for delicacy, things break. Mere seconds after he had put the erhu into his hands and had drawn the bow across the frail wire, he had realized, with an angry huff, that he had had absolutely no experience with music. The poor erhu had suffered for it, unfortunately.

Ten years later, Jae-ha, much more delicate and a lot less angry, played the erhu with finesse. As with many parts of his life, he had Gigan to thank for his success. She had wanted him to “stop pouting all the time and find a damn hobby,” and music had seemed like a good enough route. First, he had learned the flute, if only because he could have something shrill and easy to play whenever creepy men came around. Afterwards, he had picked up an erhu again, both because he liked a challenge, and because he had wanted to make a formal apology to a beautiful instrument he had broken in half when he was fifteen and stupid.

Sometime into his twenty-fifth year alive, several months after he had joined Yona and her motley crew, he regretted the decision to ever learn music. Of course, he enjoyed having the ability to teach beautiful, clumsy, easily embarrassed women how to play. But his so-called dragon brothers weren’t beautiful, clumsy, or easily embarrassed. Okay, all together, _they were_ , but, somehow, they made it a really bad combination.

 

* * *

 

 

“Kija-kun...... _why_.............................”

“I-I am so sorry! I did not think it would break so easily.”

Jae-ha stared down at the wreck that once had been his erhu. For the longest time, he had thought that breaking an instrument in half was the worst thing he could have done, but, apparently, he had been wrong. So very wrong. Actually, the worst thing he could have done was to give his favorite instrument to a man with a _dragon’s hand_. He could barely count the number of pieces Kija had broken his erhu into.

“…It’s no wonder you’re not married…” he mumbled as he collected pieces of the wood neck.

“Ah?! What does that have to do with anything?” Kija asked. He was keeping his space, standing several steps away from the kneeling Jae-ha.

“Because…” Jae-ha began, “your poor wife would have her spine broken if you dared to hold her!” He lifted the cylindrical sound box, just barely intact and with the strings hanging lamely off the bridge like the last hairs of a balding man. “Whatever you do, don’t reproduce!”

Kija’s jaw dropped open. He hunched forward, shouting. “I have to! It is the duty of the White Dragon to pass on their bloodline. I have yet to marry so I may continue to serve my master for as long as possible! A broken instrument has nothing to do with my future betrothal.”

“It has everything to do with your marriage!” Jae-ha retorted. He hopped over to Kija and held the base next to his face. “If _this_ is how you handle a musical instrument, then imagine what you would do to your wife! For the sake of all womankind, I must ask that you remain a bachelor.”

“You insolent man! I must ask _you_ to calm down!”

The argument continued well into the night, even as they ate dinner and settled in for the night. In the dying light of the campfire, beneath their blankets, Jae-ha turned to Kija and whispered, “Better yet, when it comes time to have a child, just lay there and do nothing.”

“ _I will punch your face in_ ,” Kija hissed.

 

* * *

 

 

After the tragic loss of his erhu, Jae-ha scoured every marketplace the group passed through. He searched for a new erhu, one much more resilient to the brutish strength of a dragon. He would never purposefully give Kija the instrument again, of course, but one can never be certain when traveling with such a colorful group. Months of searching—and weeks of Yun’s scolding for stealing from the budget—finally bestowed upon him the erhu of his dreams. It was an ornate piece, carved with images of mythical landscapes along the neck. Its brown color, so deep it was almost black, shone in the light. It was his prize, and he would make sure it would not fall into the wrong hands ever again.

On a night after the group had passed through a small town that was holding a funeral for a departed elder, he played for the old man’s soul. Jae-ha hadn’t known him, but he liked to imagine he was like the homeless man, always kind even in the most difficult of times. It was good the town elder had so many people to love him.

Jae-ha began with a note sharp like a sudden realization, and drew it out like it was his last breath. He held the string in place, though he allowed it to bounce as he drew the bow across, creating a warble similar to a woman’s crying voice. He played, his eyes closed while he became one with the sound, and floated in the river of notes. In his mind he could see the many hardships he and his friends had encountered, from war to famine to corruption, and how they tried to find peace for the many people who never knew it. He mourned for them. Yet somehow he knew that so long as Yona lived for her country, he would not have to worry for them.

As the song lapsed into a whisper, he thought of her. Of that kind smile and saddened eyes. Of the fire of purpose which burned within her. Of her unsteady feet which carried her and the group to astounding places. The song was for her, as well.

“Your music is too sad!”

But the song was most definitely _not_ for Zeno, who really needed to stop popping up out of nowhere and scaring him.

“Go away!” Jae-ha shouted. Zeno, unperturbed, laughed and plopped down beside him.

“Why’s Ryoukuryuu playing something so sad? Is something wrong? You’re not usually up so late.” Laying on his stomach, Zeno cradled his chin in his palms and looked up at Jae-ha. “You need to get your rest!” he exclaimed cheerily, kicking his legs behind him.

What was this? A sleepover?

“Can’t a man play music late at night for no reason?” Jae-ha asked. He leaned the erhu against his shoulder and rested the bow in his lap. “Besides, old men need more sleep than me.”

Zeno pouted and swatted his knee. “Then let Zeno play!”

Jae-ha stared at him. Did he know how to play? Something told him that Zeno actually didn’t know a lick of music. But that was hard to believe, considering how long he had lived. Surely, somewhere in those thousands of years, he had picked up an interest for the beauty that is music.

“Sure…” Jae-ha mumbled as he held out the erhu and bow. Zeno rolled over and sat up, then received the instrument. As he turned the tuning pegs, Jae-ha held his breath, awaiting a masterpiece.

What he got, though, was a screech worse than anything he had ever heard before. He immediately took the erhu and bow back.

“Eh?” Zeno stared blankly at him.

“No.” Jae-ha held his instrument protectively to his chest.

“Ryoukuryuu, give it back…”

“ _No_.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Play another song, Mister!”

“Okay, okay…”

In their travels, the group had stumbled across a group of families living in the woods, of all places. According to one of the men, they had run away from their village years ago to escape roving bandits. While Yun, Yona, and Hak spoke with them about the area, Jae-ha had sat down on a fallen tree and had decided to compose a new song. The tune had been in his head for several days, but he had yet to have the chance to make anything of it. It was a happy song, one for beautiful women to dance to. For whatever reason, the children had decided it was meant to be background music for their games, so they had forced Jae-ha to play for them. Admittedly, they were a bunch of brats. Not cute at all. But if it meant he could mostly work in peace, he could put up with him.

He pulled his bow in time with the children’s runs and jumps and tackles. He smiled to himself, tapping his foot to keep the tempo. At some point, Shinah came to sit beside him. When the last note played out into silence, the silent dragon warrior tapped Jae-ha’s shoulder.

“What is it, Shinah-kun?” he asked. The children, too absorbed in arguing over who won the game, didn’t demand for another song.

Shinah lifted his hand to signal to the erhu. “Can I… try…?”

Kija and Zeno popped up in Jae-ha’s mind. Reflexively, he hid the erhu under his knees. “Try what?”

Shinah tilted his head. “Your music…” He leaned forward, reaching over Jae-ha’s legs.

Immediately, Jae-ha blocked him by pressing his arm against Shinah’s chest. “No.” With a bit of effort, he pushed Shinah back.

Shinah stared at him, mouth open. A long moment passed before his lips closed and descended into a frown. “O…kay…” He turned away and began to stand up.

Oh, no. While Jae-ha couldn’t see Shinah’s face, his voice alone communicated his disappointment. While Shinah was an adult in his own right, and could take care of himself just fine, making him sad was somewhere at the very bottom of Jae-ha’s list of things he would ever want to do. Just seeing the slump in his companion’s shoulders sent a stab to his heart.

“W-wait, Shinah-kun!” Jae-ha declared, grabbing Shinah’s elbow. The silent dragon sat back down. “You can try. Just don’t get your expectations up. The erhu is rather difficult to play.”

Shinah nodded. Restraining a sigh, Jae-ha handed the erhu and bow over. He clutched his knees and awaited whatever hell might meet his ears.

A melody was what followed, however. Well, technically, it was Jae-ha’s melody, since Shinah was playing, note to note, from the second refrain of Jae-ha’s new song.

“How the… Shinah-kun! When did you learn to play?” Jae-ha leaned forward, barely able to contain his smile.

“From watching…you.”

From him? Just be watching him, Shinah had learned to play? Consider him flattered.

“Shinah-kun.” Jae-ha placed a hand on Shinah’s shoulder, and the music stopped. “I love you.”

Shinah looked between the hand on his shoulder and at Jae-ha. After a long moment passed, he took the hand and returned it to Jae-ha’s knee. “No,” was all he said before returning to the music.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More spoilers! Written with the intent of tragedy, came out with free-form sadness? it was midnight when I wrote this, so who really knows how it turned out
> 
> Inspired by "Come Back for Me" by Jaymes Young

He’s forgotten what year it is.

(The soil feels the same as it always has.)

More specifically, he’s forgotten how many years have passed. A thousand? No. That seems too long. Nine hundred, maybe. A little more than that. Give or take something between forty and fifty. Nine hundred forty to nine hundred fifty years. Yeah. That sounds about right.

(The plants haven’t changed.)

The sun beats down upon him and upon a valley of soldiers. They are all resting with him. He thinks the heat of the summer is much worse than it has ever been. It was cooler last century. When he was with Hiryuu, summer was more like a slightly warmer interlude between spring and winter.

(He hasn’t changed at all.)

Or maybe it’s just his mind playing tricks on him. The dragon power allows him to fight an entire battalion without rest. But the exertion causes him to sweat, like any normal human being. Maybe that is why he has been picking so many fights as of late. To know heat and exhaustion like anyone else is such a gift.

(He could be reaching that “rebellious stage” his mother spoke so often of, however.)

It is pointless to think about himself, though. He has had more enough time to do that, after all. And there have been plenty of people to tell him what he is like. Kind. Useless. Kid. Monster. Loving. Generous. Monster. Idiot. Wise. Hilarious. Cute. Talented. Sunshine. Monster.

(He would like to ask Hiryuu, but Hiryuu stopped replying a long time ago.)

The medallion weighs, heavy, upon his chest. It burns like the beginning of a campfire. Even with all his clothes ripped and bloody, it remains clean and perfect. A true gift from the heavens. Worth more than any money could afford. Worthless in the face of all the pain it has seen.

(He hates him.)

The power within him flows and whispers. There is a plan, it says. Hiryuu will come back. He has heard this plan for the past nine hundred forty to nine hundred fifty years. But it has been growing stronger, much like the summer sun. It is not yet blazing, for many steps still need to be taken. He knows what must happen, though. Hiryuu’s reincarnation will come. When the child is ready, he must serve Hiryuu once again. Protect the red dragon with his physical shield, as he should have many years ago.

(He misses him.)

He doesn’t want to. He has become too accustomed to the stench of death. He might have already become one with it. He has no right, serving another living human.

“Don’t come back,” he whispers to the heavens. They turned a deaf ear to him long ago.

(Please come back.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one of those midnight drabbles. Takes place in my Modern AU, before Kija & Shinah became Jae-ha's roommates. Note: they don’t have their dragon powers in this drabble. Instead they have physical deformities. Kija is proud of his (though he has his moments of doubt), while Jae-ha is rather ashamed of his. Also, Kija’s struggling with his sexuality.
> 
> Warning for (not explicit) sexual content.

He’s not sure why he’s here.  The café is closed for the week in an attempt at precaution - with the national snowstorm warning broadcasting every hour, most businesses have locked their doors.  Kija should be at home, enjoying the warmth of his family and the heating system, tucked in only one layer of clothing.  But he didn’t feel right there.  With all those smiling faces, yet without a single trace of the man he had walked away from just days prior - he didn’t feel right there.  The next thing he knew, he was buried under five layers of clothes, his boots heavy-duty for the snow and only the skin around his eyes left open to the biting winter wind.

The café’s blinds are flipped shut and the door is freezing and locked.  But he wants to see him - that man who deserves better than an one night stand after a bleeding heart moment.  Kija is being ridiculous.  He can wait until after the snowstorm to see Jae-ha.  He knows that.  But he wants to see him.  He has to see him.  Nothing will feel right until he does that.

“Kija?”

It’s Jae-ha.  The second he hears that smooth voice, he is overcome with elation, yet also swept under a tide of guilt.  He staggers to meet his eyes with Jae-ha’s, but he manages to, anyways.

“...Is there something wrong with the shop?” he asks.

Jae-ha shakes his head.  “I just wanted to come here.  I couldn’t think at home.  But I can always think here.”

“Even with all the customers?”

Something akin to a short laugh comes from Jae-ha.  While Kija can’t see Jae-ha’s mouth beneath his yellow scarf, he figures there’s a sly smile on his lips.  “There’s times when its quiet.”

Kija smiles.  It’s true.  In the times when he sat in the café, studying for a test or writing an essay, and there was a lull in customers, the establishment had a serenity to it, something so preciously rare.  It’s little wonder how he’s come to love it.

Jae-ha comes up to him.  He holds his breath.  Jae-ha fishes a ring of keys from the pocket of his oversized coat, flashes them in the direction of the door.  Kija takes a few quick steps back, gives him space. Jae-ha unlocks and opens the door.

“Let’s not freeze,” he says.  Kija nods and rushes in.  Jae-ha follows him and shuts the door.  The café is silent, and it is cold, but at least it is windless.  “I’ll go turn on the heater,” Jae-ha announces as he slides past Kija.

Kija stares down at the familiar brown tiling, and realizes he might have made a mistake coming here.  Because now he has to talk to Jae-ha.  Now he has to atone for his betrayal - for his moment of weakness.  He’s prideful to a fault.  He knows it’s not one of his best qualities.

“Kija.”  He looks up to Jae-ha, who has unbuttoned his coat, revealing the turtleneck he’s wearing.  It’s a green that matches his hair, which he has left uncharacteristically untied.  The heater blows on in the background.  “Why did you come here?”

It’s surprising, how quick he is to get to the point for once.  Kija ducks his head again in shame.  It’s terrible, how happy he is just to hear Jae-ha’s voice, but how much he wants to crumble at the sight of him.  He shouldn’t be so conflicted.  Not over a man.

“I... I came here...”  He takes a moment to swallow the lump in his throat.  As prideful as he is, his friends are much more important.  “I came here to apologize.  For the other night.  I shouldn’t have--”

Jae-ha’s in front of him in a flash.  Fingers pressed to Kija’s chin, he lifts his head and forces their eyes to meet.  “Just tell me something,” he demands.  Kija finds himself bothered by how Jae-ha’s bangs perfectly hide his eye, leaving only one for Kija to use to judge his expression.  He wishes it was flipped aside, his hair sprawled out in a messy pool as it was on that night, when Jae-ha was splayed out on his apartment bed, breathless and expecting while Kija straddled him, breathless and excited.

Kija flushes at the memory.  It’s so vivid.  It still feels real, as though his skin was still drenched in sweat and cum and the tears of having been taken for the first time.  Heat swells in the pit of his stomach, urging him to break the awkward moment and to fuck the man standing before him ( _you know you want to_ ;  _stop denying yourself_ ;  _be honest with yourself for once_ ).  It’s disgusting.  Kija attempts to look away, but Jae-ha’s fingers are still tight against his chin, forcing their eyes to continue meeting.

“Was I a mistake for you?”

Everything becomes empty for a moment.  “No,” Kija answers immediately.  “Of course you weren’t!”  He grabs Jae-ha’s wrist and forces his chin free.  “You opened your heart to me about your foot and I...” Years of rules, of rights and wrongs, of the taboo of homosexuality build within his throat.  But he gulps it all down.  This, at least, he can do for a man who deserves to hear the truth.  “...I did as I so pleased...”

Jae-ha shakes his wrist free from Kija’s grip.  “Then why did you leave?” he nearly hisses.

Kija grips his own upper arm, willing the shaking to stop.  This is not the time for fear.  Even as his breath comes in shallow and leaves thin, he cannot be stricken by worries.  “Because I shouldn’t have done that with you in the first place,” he replies slowly.

Jae-ha scowls, his teeth bared and clenched.  “What kind of fucking answer--”

“You don’t understand!” Kija interrupts.  “I have to be with a woman!  I have a duty to my family to continue the bloodline!  I can’t just be  _gay_.  It’s not allow--”

This time, Jae-ha interrupts him.  But he doesn’t speak.  Instead he smashes his lips against Kija’s, desperate, needy, wet and wanting.  Kija kisses him back, near reflexively, as though he was made for the man pressing up against him.  Jae-ha’s hands fondle his ass, and Kija crumples in an instant.  He wants this.  He needs this.  And not a thought in his mind can take him away - not now, at least.  Jae-ha leads them somewhere, their feet almost stumbling over each other, and soon Kija hears the distinctive sound of chairs falling onto the floor before he’s pinned down on a table.  It’s barely big enough to fit him, but he could care less.

Jae-ha presses his crotch against Kija’s, rocking just slightly but maddeningly enough as his teeth pinch and suck at Kija’s lower lip.  Kija’s aware he’s already growing hard, shamefully desperate he is for this man, so he cannot help the moan that tears through him as the pressure builds.  Jae-ha finally relents, lifting his face from Kija’s, though his hips still twitch at the conjunction of their crotches.

“Then let’s forget about women for now.  Let’s have this for today,” Jae-ha says between pants for breath.  His hands are already unzipping Kija’s coat.

Kija knows that he should say no.  That he should stop this foolishness before it goes too far again.  But as he stares up at the face of the only one who ever understood that a deformity is nothing to be proud of when people run away from it, denial is banished from his tongue.  Just for today.  Women can come another time.

“...Okay.”


	6. Time to Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally written for AkaYona Ladies Week! Based on my headcanon that Ayura & Tetora were underground fighters before they became friends & Lili's bodyguards.

“And it’s decided! Contestant 2-3-5-1 is the winner!”

It was no surprise. The fans knew who to bet on. Still, the crowd erupted into wild cheers and jeers, while the unlucky few bowed their heads in shame. Contestant 2-3-5-1, a beautiful young woman with her black hair tied into a low ponytail, handed in her two wooden swords to the referee. Her opponent curled up on the ground, his back to his defeater, and he held his broken leg, his other one too battered to bother being moved. Contestant 2-3-5-1 walked out of the ring, her lips tied into a perpetually calm line.

Tetora weaved her way through the crowd. So, that was her opponent? Interesting. Tetora had heard about her for the past few weeks—the new woman, Contestant 2-3-5-1, who refused to give her real name, but could deal terrible damage with her two-sword technique. She was beautiful, she was mysterious, and she was deadly. A perfect partner for Tetora, a few people had said.

Tetora had yet to fight her, but from watching her matches, she could see for certain that Contestant 2-3-5-1 would be a formidable opponent. But never a partner. Of course, the competition allowed for two-on-two matches—any respectable underground fighting ring did. But Tetora was not about to share her earnings with anyone. It was a little sad. Contestant 2-3-5-1 probably could make such a lovely friend.

Tetora slipped into the back, where the fighters gathered to cool down or to warm up. Contestant 2-3-5-1 was already there, standing calmly in the middle of the room, picking up her personal belongings from beneath a table and putting them out. She had only a shallow basket, for collecting food from merchants, and two swords, tied up in a simple cloth. Other competitors watched her from their little corners and small groups, hate burning in their eyes. All of them had been beaten by her or Tetora, or had had their defeaters overwhelmed by either of the two women. They still fought, participating in miniscule matches that had no effect on the rankings of the overall competition, but their chances of winning the grand prize had ultimately been stolen by the two women. It served them right, though. If they weren’t strong, then they wouldn’t win—and it was as simple as that.

“2-3-5-1,” Tetora called. The Contestant, in the middle of untying the cloth that held her swords, looked up. “I watched your match. It was impressive. I’ve never seen anyone fight like that.”

Contestant 2-3-5-1 watched her for a long moment. Tetora put on one of her calmest smiles, one that fooled her enemies into thinking of her as a weak woman. Contestant 2-3-5-1 returned her gaze to her swords, and continued to untie the cloth. “There are no limits on weapons, if you wish to tell me that I’m cheating. If my opponent can have two fists, then I can have two swords. Do you wish to challenge me?” She folded out the cloth, revealing her two swords. They were of the same length, and presumably the same caliber, except one had its black grip and sheath decorated. A gift, most likely, to a skilled warrior from many years ago. The paint was well-worn, leaving only flakes of what must have been a beautiful design. The other sword was dreadfully simple by comparison, kept in a standard sheath and the hilt non-existent.

Tetora chuckled, but kept her eyes on the swords. Contestant 2-3-5-1 pulled out a rope from the basket and wrapped it around the grip of the hilt-less sword. “I’m not here about that, dear. I’m here to introduce myself, since I will be your opponent for the finals tomorrow.”

Contestant 2-3-5-1 looked at her, eyebrows raised just slightly. “Is that so? It’s a pleasure to meet you, then.” She nodded her head in a make-shift bow, then returned to tying a section of the rope to the hilt-less sword.

Tetora restrained a sigh. “My name is Tetora. May I ask for yours?”

Contestant 2-3-5-1 tied the knot suddenly and roughly. “Tomorrow will not be my last match, so, no.” She set down the hilt-less sword and picked up the decorated sword. In the dim firelight of the room, Tetora caught the faint glimpse of a carving. Immediately, she grabbed the Contestant’s wrist, and forced her to hold out the sword for her to see. Upon the grip were strokes, carved in so they could never fade, and they spelled a name.

“…Ayura, huh? Lovely name.”

Contestant 2-3-5-1, apparently named Ayura, furrowed her brows. “You’re bright. Nobody’s ever noticed the carvings.”

Tetora grinned at Ayura. “There’s a reason I’m your opponent tomorrow.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Granny meets Gigan. BUT! They somehow discover they can get along."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Buriko!

In the years since the defeat of Kumji and Jae-ha’s departure, Gigan had become accustomed to a certain routine.  At dawn, she would awake in her quarters on the ship and prepare breakfast for herself while she waited for her sailors to arrive for work.  When they had all gathered, bright-eyed despite the early hours, she would deliver some curt statement about their lateness and would hide her smile as they laughed and prepared the sails.  The morning would drag on while her men, the vast majority of whom had once been her pirates, cast out fishing nets and kept the ship on course.  When the rest of city was awake at mid-morning, the crew anchored at the harbor, separated fish for themselves and for sale, and she would bid them a good day once their stall in the marketplace was set up.  For the rest of the day, she walked around Awa for as long as her aging legs could take her, visiting old friends and their families, browsing any new developments she could spot, and enjoying every lovely day her city offered.  It was a routine she had followed even before Jae-ha had appeared in her life, twelve years old and carrying burdens nobody should have.  She had already resolved to follow it until her body could no longer carry her soul.

It was a sunny day in Awa, with the city on the verge of entering the summer months, that her routine was dramatically interrupted.  She was haggling prices with a clothing merchant when she heard Toku calling her name and saw him racing towards her, his usually complacent face stricken with surprise.

She held up a hand to silence the merchant and turned towards her former pirate.  “What is it?” she asked when he skidded to a stop in front of her, gasping for breath.

“Jae…Jae-ha…” Toku pointed in the direction of the north entrance.  “Jae-ha came home!  He’s looking for you!”

As soon as the word ‘home’ escaped Toku’s lips, Gigan’s legs were propelling her towards the north entrance.  The city around her blurred, her vision tunneled to only what was in front of her.  Her muscles and her back protested, but they were mere reminders of age.  They were ants to the galaxy that was the dragon she had called her son.  For as long as her eyes could last her, she would wish to see that galaxy.

His stupidly tall body, his marvelously green hair, his remarkably unique fashion taste — they made him an easy target to spot.  She saw him before he saw her, and memories of a pouting and bruised child, of a crying and unsure teen, of a teasing and happy adult flooded her mind, and her tears were falling before they were felt.  She was quick to dry her eyes, but she took her time to catch her breath.  He appeared worse for wear, a scar cutting across his handsome face, his hair much longer and a bit messier than she remembered.  But he was dressed in brocades richer than she had ever seen or imagined, lending him the visage of the same nobles he had once claimed to detest.  Not a single bit of that mattered, though, when his eyes finally landed on her.  His smile, made of all the stars known to man, flashed upon his lips, and he was just twelve-years old again, chuckling with her sailors over a silly-looking fish.  Before she could call his name, she was hoisted into the air, her old body held tightly in a hug.  Jae-ha said not a word, but his laughter ringed in the air, blaring more than the sun burned.

Gigan snickered.  “Welcome home, you lanky brat,” she said as she cradled his head in the crook of her neck.

 

* * *

 

A week later, they were hiking up mountains.  Well, to be more accurate, _Jae-ha_ was hiking while Gigan rode his back, her legs and lungs much too old to handle the strain.  Their travel bags hung from her shoulders, bouncing against her body with ever step Jae-ha took.  The air grew thinner by the minute, but it was nothing in comparison to the suffocation felt because of broken ribs.  Gigan kept her breathing steady, nonetheless, as she clung to Jae-ha.

“Tell me again why you aren’t bothering to jump up?” she asked.  A sudden gust of wind, one that ended nearly as soon as it appeared, blew his ponytail back, his hair whipping her in the face, so she casually nudged it over his shoulder.  She tried her best to ignore how the bow in his hair continued to poke her cheek.

Jae-ha laughed.  “Jumping my way up to Hakuryuu Village makes even _me_ sick.  The air change is rather extreme.”

Gigan hummed and buried her face in his shoulder.  He smelled much differently than she could remember.  Before he had departed for his journey with Yona, he had smelled of the salty air and fresh fish, much like everyone else in Awa, except with his own mix of flowery perfumes (most of which belonged to courtesans), the wood of his instruments, and something indescribable but distinctly _him_.  That inexpressible smell still belonged to him, if only a bit more matured after all his years of travel, as was the wood of his instruments, but the stench of his perfume was almost nonexistent, and the salt and fish had been replaced by earth and land animals.  Gigan wasn’t quite sure if she liked it.  Letting go wasn’t exactly one of her strengths.

“And why are we going to Hakuryuu Village?” Gigan questioned.  She removed her face from his shoulder to take in the mountain scenery around her.  To her left and below her were rocks, some of which were intruded by grass.  To her right was forest, cutting off her view of the world far beneath her, of places she had been in just a day or two ago, before she and Jae-ha had begun the hike.  Above her was the wide expanse of light blue sky, but the sun was high, so if she attempted to search for clouds, her eyes were burned.  Overall, the mountain scenery was rather boring.  She didn’t recommend it.

“Don’t tell me your memory is escaping you,” Jae-ha teased, earning him a slap to the back of the head, courtesy of Gigan.  He burst into rowdy chuckles.  Yep, he was definitely a snot-nosed brat, no matter how many years passed.

“Just answer the question,” she demanded.

Slowly, he managed to reduce his chuckles to snickers, and soon enough he was able to hush himself after a long, audible sigh of relief, the sound similar to the sight of a bird suddenly diving into the water.  “Sorry, Captain~” he sang.  She pulled on his ponytail.  “Ow!  Okay, okay.  We’re going because the people of Hakuryuu Village wish to meet you.  Besides Kija’s grandmother, you’re the only person who has taken care of a dragon warrior.  You deserve the highest of honors.”

“Is that according to them or according to you?”

“Can’t it be both?” Jae-ha immediately responded.

Gigan laughed.  He patronized so easily, as always.  She relaxed her arms around his shoulders and rested her cheek against his back and waited in silence until they reached their destination.  It took no longer than she had expected, because soon enough, the rocks and grass and forest were replaced by thick mist.  She had a feeling that if she reached out her hand, her fingers would leave trails in the fog.  Once Jae-ha reached level ground, he set her down on her feet.  Barely a few seconds passed before she was sticking her pipe into her mouth and lighting the powder.

“We’ve arrived!” Jae-ha called out.

Soon enough, the shroud of mist materialized people, most of whom carried bows and arrows in their hands.  They were all men, from what she could tell, but they were barely human.  They were more like children of the clouds, exactly the same except for the slightest of nuances.  The set of their shoulders, the shape of their noses, the color of their white hair, the sharpness of their cheekbones, the height of their bodies — even if her vision wasn’t obscured by the fog, she doubted she would be able to tell the difference between all of them.  Hakuryuu Village, so far, was a place of her nightmares.

A man with short hair and a bushy mustache stepped forward.  His expression reminded her of a storm cloud on the verge of a storm, rumbling with warning but not yet carrying lightening.  “Is this Captain Gigan?” he asked Jae-ha.  His voice was distant thunder.

Jae-ha nodded sharply, his smile as bright as spring.  “This is her!”  He grabbed her hand and pulled her in front of him.  She took a puff from her pipe, staring down the mustached man, not about to bow down to any nightmares or storms.  “She is my lovely Captain!”

In just a split-second, gasps sounded around her, and the mustached man broke out into a sunny smile, all teeth and sparkling eyes.  “What an honor!” he proclaimed.  He bowed once, twice, thrice, laughing the entire time.  “We’ve heard so much about you, Captain!  Lord Ryokuryuu could barely contain his excitement when we asked to meet you!”

“Now, now,” Jae-ha interrupted, holding up a hand to hush the mustached man.  “Let’s not exaggerate so much.”  He released her hand so he could throw an arm around the mustached man’s shoulders.  “We should introduce her to the rest of the village, don’t you think?”

“Yes!  Most certainly!” the mustached man replied, excited like some newborn pup.  Gigan couldn’t help the bad taste in her mouth at the sight of someone presumably twice Jae-ha’s age be turned into a child at Jae-ha’s will.  Worst of all, Jae-ha probably knew _exactly_ what he was doing.  Oh, where did she go wrong?

Deciding to think about her parenting mistakes some other time, Gigan turned around to pick up her luggage.  But she was quickly intercepted by two cloud children, who picked up both her and Jae-ha’s bags and threw them over their shoulders in unison.  Creepy.  Definitely creepy.  Gigan turned back around and hurried after Jae-ha, pretending not to notice the long, focused stares of the men around her.  Was she truly that fascinating to them?  It was difficult to imagine, all things considered.

When the fog dissipated, they finally entered Hakuryuu Village.  A lake intruded on the mountain, clearer than any looking glass.  Tall buildings dotted the rocky landscape, covered in straw roofs and facing a terraced slope.  More cloud children appeared before Gigan, some of them actual kids, with wide, innocent eyes that she had only caught on rare occasions in Jae-ha.  Some girls and women rushed towards her, their voices like bird chirps as they observed her.  She took a step back, only to bump into the boys and men who had followed her from the mist.  Some of them made space for her, but the others stood in place, looking up at her with absolute amazement.  Gigan had no idea she could possibly be so disturbed by people so much younger than her.

“Jae-ha, is this your idea of a prank?” she asked, glaring at the dragon who had taken a spot several steps away from the growing crowd.

Jae-ha chuckled.  “Where did you get that idea, Captain?  This is just how the Village is.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

If she wasn’t absolutely surrounded by villagers, she would throw a knife at Jae-ha.  What a brat.

“Ah!  Captain Gigan!” a voice she recognized as Kija’s called out.  True enough, she spotted the White Dragon Warrior running towards her, as bright-eyed as the children of his village.  Some things never truly change, she thought as she noted how his clothes were no different than what he wore during the battle against Kumji.  His face was older, embedded with the beginnings of wrinkles, but he was just as youthful as she had last seen him.  She knew a smile was already on her face by the time he reached her.

“So this is where you grew up, huh?” Gigan asked, merely as a conversation starter.

“Oh, yes, it is,” Kija replied.  The villagers fanned out for him, giving him the space he needed to properly approach Gigan.  Jae-ha slipped in beside her.  “This is the Village of the Hakuryuu.  It has protected all generations of the White Dragon since the days of the first Warrior.”

“Oops, you got him started,” Jae-ha whispered.

“After the death of King Hiryuu, Warrior Guen traveled the world, searching for people he could help with his dragon hand,” Kija continued, his entire self practically glistening with joy.  “He gained followers and continued on his journey until his wife was discovered to be pregnant.  They settled here in the mountains, safe from anyone who would wish to take his power for their own benefit.  His first child became the next White Dragon Warrior, though he managed to have many more before his passing.  Throughout the centuries, the villagers have carried on Warrior Guen’s legacy, protecting his stories and—”

“Kija,” Jae-ha interrupted.  “I think you can hold your history lesson later.  We only just arrived.”

Kija blinked rapidly, a blush blooming across his cheeks.  Heh, he was so cute.  “My sincere apologies!” he exclaimed, bowing to Gigan quickly.  “I failed to accommodate you after your long journey.”  Carefully, he took her hand in both of his, resting his dragon scales over her knuckles.  “Please, follow me.  We have so much to talk about.”

He released her hands and began to walk away, trusting that she would follow.  She did, since there was no use in waiting for Jae-ha to finish waving goodbye to his many fans.  He could spend an hour with just one girl.  Kija led her to the tallest building in the landscape, one which rested against the mountainside.  He offered his dragon hand to help her up the many stairs.  She took it, if only to hurry her escape from the squealing of the girls Jae-ha had surrounded himself with.

“I wish Shinah and Zeno could be here, as well,” Kija suddenly said about halfway up the stairs.  “But they are at the castle to help Yona.”

“Who is Zeno?” she asked.

“Oh, I had forgotten that Zeno was not with us when we were in Awa.  He is the Ouryuu,” Kija informed her.  “It’s been so long, I’ve begun to believe that my dragon brothers have been with me for every step of the journey.  I actually had a dream recently that Jae-ha had been there when we met Shinah!  It’s rather embarrassing.”

Gigan took a puff from her pipe.  Traces of the smoke wafted down her throat, spreading out to her bones and hushing their aches like a mother placing a blanket over her agitated child.  When she and Kija reached the top of the stairs, she mumbled to him, “I trust that Jae-ha didn’t cause you any trouble?”

Kija shook his head with a smile that trusted everyone to be the best they could possibly be.  “Not in the slightest!” he declared.  “If anything, he has been like a big brother to us all, taking all the burden on himself.”

Gigan chuckled into her pipe.  “That’s just like him.  Thank you for letting me know.”

Kija nodded his head before he led her into the building.  The inside was well-furnished, decorated with tables and rugs and pillows and chairs and plants.  There were more stairs to her right, but Kija seated her in a chair beside a line of bonsai trees.  “I will go fetch Granny now.  She has been so eager to meet you!” Kija said while he rushed out of the building.  Almost as soon as he exited, though, Jae-ha entered.  His clothes were wrinkled beyond belief and his ponytail was thrown into disarray.

“What did you do?  Have sex with all the village girls at once?” Gigan immediately questioned.

“Aha, I wish,” Jae-ha immediately replied.  “But Kija would have my scalp if I dared to touch any of them.”

“How valiant of him,” Gigan droned.

Jae-ha snickered.  He picked up a pillow and dropped it in front of her, plopping down on it with his ankles crossed and knees akimbo.  “That doesn’t stop them from wanting me, of course.  After all, I’m both a dragon warrior and devastatingly handsome!  I would be pining for me if I was them.”

“That’s just your inflated ego talking,” Gigan bit back.

Jae-ha crossed his hands over his heart.  “Oh, how you wound me, Captain…!”

Gigan snorted and took another puff.  They lapsed into silence.  Jae-ha turned his head to look out one of the windows, but all Gigan could see was him in his teen years, hair untied and resting on his shoulders, a book in his hands, his eyes scanning the pages with fervor even though he was supposed to be relaxing after a long day.  So much time had passed since then, but he would always be that curious little brat to her.

The peace was suddenly interrupted by four, exactly identical girls entering through the door, a litter carried on their shoulders.  A tiny old woman sat, prestigious to the point of looking silly, atop the litter.  Her giant, dark blue eyes scanned the area like an owl on the hunt, until they landed upon Gigan, and the woman broke out into a bright smile.  Gigan had to wonder if the Hakuryuu villagers had the ability to not be terrifying to anyone who wasn’t cordially invited to their village.

“You must be Gigan,” the woman, presumably Granny, said.

“Yes I am.”  Gigan leaned forward and rested her hand on Jae-ha’s shoulder, using it as leverage while she stood up.

“Oh, there is no need to get up for me,” Granny stated.  “We are equals here.”

“I prefer to stand when I meet someone new,” Gigan lied.  Call her judgmental, but she wasn’t a fan of being seated, and therefore being in a lower position, when she was speaking with someone who was carried around like royalty.

Granny tilted her head, eyes closed and lips smiling.  “As you wish,” she replied.  “But I would like to have tea with you.  When I heard that there was another person who had raised a dragon by herself, I wished to become your acquaintance, if not friend.”

“Fair enough,” Gigan responded.

 

* * *

 

When Granny had proposed meeting Gigan, Jae-ha had expected hell.  Gigan had been raised through strife, decimating enemy after enemy, yet never losing her large heart.  Granny, well, Jae-ha didn’t know much about her, except that she had seen several generations of Hakuryuus grow up and die at the unwilling hands of their successors.  But, from what he had learned in the two weeks he had spent in Kija’s village, Granny was considered someone comparable to nobility, not only because of her age but also because of her family line.  The singular thing that could possibly connect Gigan and Granny was the fact that neither of them had children of their own and instead had raised dragon warriors.  But, even then, their parenting styles had been drastically different, as noted by how polar opposite he and Kija were.

When Granny invited Gigan for tea, Jae-ha made a quick escape.  Best to stay as far, _far_ away from the danger zone.  Unfortunately, he was soon subjected to a long, detailed history of the farming practices in the village, courtesy of Kija, who was always happy to supply Jae-ha with _yet another_ history lesson whenever Jae-ha had nothing to do.  Damn Kija and his ban.  What was the point of inviting Jae-ha to stay in the village for a while when Jae-ha wasn’t allowed to entertain the women on their lonely nights?

However, within the hour, he noticed the quadruplets leaving Kija’s home, Granny not in tow.  Happily excusing himself, Jae-ha made his way to the first floor of Kija’s house, eager to see what exactly was happening.  The first thing he heard was Granny’s voice.

“Lord Kija is much more like his grandfather.  He keeps stubbornly refusing a wife!”

There was a snort from Gigan.  “That reminds me of Jae-ha when the women at the brothels started inviting him.”  Oh, gods, he _knew_ the tone in Gigan’s voice.  _Nothing_ good ever happened (for him) when Gigan spoke like that.

“C-captain!” he shouted as he skidded into the tea room.  “Please, don’t tell her _that_ story!”

Gigan only spared him a glance before she leaned towards Granny and whispered something into her ear.  In seconds, Granny was reduced to uproarious laughter, tears streaming from her wide eyes.

“Oh, Lord Ryokuryuu!” Granny shouted between guffaws.  “Who would’ve known you were ever so _innocent_!”

In that moment, Jae-ha knew that he had made a terrible mistake when he brought Gigan and Granny together.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Green requested "something Kija-centric" for my thank-you oneshot because she wrote a cute JaeKi drabble for me :) Somehow her request became Modern AU trans* Kija from Shinah's POV xD

The Sunday of his second week of living with Jae-ha and Kija, Shinah discovered something strange.  It was his turn to pick up all the air-dried clothes and sheets from the roof of their apartment complex (next week would be Jae-ha’s turn, so Shinah would be the one to take their dirty laundry down to the community laundromat, with Kija’s help because Kija had a system and the system _was not_ to be broken).  When Shinah reached their line, though, he noticed a strange article strung up with Jae-ha’s dress shirts and Kija’s sheets.  At first glance it looked like a tank top, except cut short at the stomach.  It was sepia colored, probably making it difficult to distinguish from the skin of a healthy person.  Further inspection revealed that the front half, with the low collar, was thickly padded and difficult to stretch, as well as much more opaque than the back half, which was its opposite in every conceivable way.

Shinah took the strange tank top down last, dropping it atop the pile of sheets and clothes.  It probably belonged to one of their neighbors and was simply strung up on the wrong line, but he figured Kija and Jae-ha would have a better idea of what to do with it.

So Shinah balanced the laundry basket on his hip, as he had seen so many people do before, and hurried downstairs to their apartment on the seventh floor.  When he arrived, Kija already had the TV set to a cooking show, ironing board and related paraphernalia set up so he could begin ironing all of their wrinkled clothes.  Jae-ha sat at the kitchen counter, headphones strapped over his ears and shirt draped over the couch, a small pile of school-related documents in front of him and his laptop showing the title of the song he was listening to.

“Ah!  Shinah!” Kija greeted.  “Welcome back.”  He picked up the iron and began to unwrap the cord so he could plug it in.  Shinah approached him, basket digging into his hip, and poked his shoulder.  “Yes?”

“I found…this…” Shinah mumbled, picking up the strange tank top.

Kija paled, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.  “Th-th-th-th-that…!  Where did you…?”

“Outside… on our line,” Shinah answered.

Kija grabbed it and held it tight, protectively, against his chest.  “Th-thank you, Sh-Sh-Shinah.”  Without bothering to finish unwrapping the iron’s cord, he raced into his room, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Well, that was weird.  Did he upset Kija?  He hoped he hadn’t…

 

* * *

 

On Saturdays, the schools would let out early, leaving an entire afternoon for the students to enjoy.  Yona spent those afternoons with her friends.  According to her, Shinah was a friend, so he would join her.  He didn’t particularly like how large her friend group was, because it forced multiple people to cluster together and talk over each other but crowds and clashing noises gave him a headache and choked the air from him.  But Yona had fun.  She would smile so brightly, jumping between every person and, somehow, not leaving one friend alone for too long.  Shinah adored her smile.  He loved her chipper attention.  Yona made the situation worth all his discomfort.

On Saturdays, after work, Jae-ha usually had a “gig” (whatever that meant), so he stayed out for a long, long time.  Kija would be the only person left in the apartment until Yona’s friend group dispersed for the night and Hak forced Yona to go home and get some rest.  By that time, it was near midnight, and Kija would be fast asleep.  But there would be a sign on the bathroom door that read, according to Jae-ha, “Bathtub prohibited!”

One Saturday night, Shinah returned home later than usual — a startling 1:21 A.M.  As soon as he entered the apartment complex, he removed his sunglasses, because his eyes hurt from wearing the tinted shades throughout the night.  Just as his headache began to subside, the elevator had taken him up to the seventh floor and he was fishing for his door key in the pocket of his hoodie (which was a snowy white, because Yona liked the color).  As soon as he entered the apartment, he discovered that nothing was as it usually should be.

For one thing, Jae-ha was home.  Typically, on Saturdays, he didn’t return until 3 o’clock Sunday morning.  But, for this particular night, he was already stretched out on the couch in his sleepwear — a pair of black sweatpants and nothing else.  His tattoos shone under the bright yellow light of the apartment and he greeted Shinah with a half-hearted wave.  For another thing, Kija was wide awake.  He was, in fact, standing right in front of the door, arms crossed.  He was dressed in his silk pajamas and his face betrayed his nervousness.

“…I’m home…” Shinah mumbled.  He reached up and pulled down the brim of his baseball cap so Kija wouldn’t see his eyes.

“Wel-welcome home…” Kija replied.  “Shinah, I have decided to tell you something very important!”  Suddenly, he uncrossed his arms and pointed a finger dramatically at Shinah, their proximity almost causing him to poke Shinah’s face.  “You must promise to keep it a secret!  Take it to your grave!”

For the sake of personal space, Shinah backed up two steps.  He would’ve gone _much_ farther, but the door blocked him from doing so.  “I…I promise…”

“Kija, you’re scaring him,” Jae-ha lazily warned.

Kija blinked and lowered his hand.  “Oh.  I am?  Am I, Shinah?”

Technically, Kija wasn’t scaring him, just making Shinah unnerved.  But he didn’t really want to say that, so he remained silent.

Kija cleared his throat and awkwardly rubbed his hands together.  “A-anyway… what I am about to tell you might be very confusing, but I will explain it to you as best I can.  All I ask is that you keep it a secret from the others, because I’m not ready to let them know.”

Shinah nodded.  Of course, it would be difficult to lie to his friends — if anything, he would absolutely try to ignore ever having to hide the truth from any of them.  But this was important to Kija, so he would do his best.

“You can do it, Kija~!” Jae-ha sang.

“Shut up!” Kija hissed back.

Jae-ha smirked.  “I thought you wanted me home early for all my love and support,” he teased.

Kija turned a bright red and turned around.  “I don’t call this love and support!”

Jae-ha laughed.  “Just hurry up!” he joshed.  “There’s no good in keeping a secret from a roommate.”

Shinah tilted his head in curiosity just as Kija huffed and turned back around.  “Anyway…”  Kija took a deep breath, held it for a surprisingly long amount of time, and then exhaled slowly.  “Shinah, I am transgender.”

Shinah tilted his head even further.  “It means that Kija was born with breasts and a vagina, but he identifies as a male and would prefer to have a penis and no breasts,” Jae-ha said.  Shinah could always trust Jae-ha to be blunt when the situation called for it.

The red on Kija’s face deepened.  “I-it’s… as Jae-ha says.  I apologize for keeping it a secret from you, but… it’s still rather difficult for me to talk about.  I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you for at least another month or so, but then you found my binder on the drying line last Sunday —” Oh, so _that’s_ what the strange tank top was called, “— and I realized that it would be prudent of me to tell you before you started asking our friends about it.  I hope I wasn’t too late…?”

Shinah shook his head.  After he had seen how frantic Kija was after showing him the binder, Shinah had decided not to ask anyone about it.  He didn’t even talk to Jae-ha about it, despite Jae-ha being the most likely one to know why Kija had reacted the way he had.

Kija sighed, obviously relieved.  “Thank you so much…”  He folded his hands over his chest, angelic in his appearance, and offered up such a beautiful, bright smile.  “I hope knowing about my gender doesn’t change anything between us.  You are a dear friend of mine and I don’t want to lose you.”

Shinah shook his head fervently.  Kija was Kija, regardless of if he was born a girl or boy.  “We’re friends.  Nothing’s different.”

Tears welled up in Kija’s eyes.  Without any warning, he lunged forward and wrapped Shinah in a hug tighter than Shinah thought possible.  “Thank you…!  Thank you so much, Shinah!”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by narutinachan! She asked for Zeno to tell Kija, Shinah, and Jae-ha about the original dragons~

He can see it in their every action.  Yun’s touches linger whenever he’s passing food to Zeno or correcting Zeno’s clothes.  Hak keeps the blade of his hsu quandao obviously pointed as far away from Zeno as possible.  Jae-ha helps him much more often, even with the tiniest of things.  Shinah stands still and observes him every time Zeno hugs him.  Yona stays closer to him than is really necessary.  Kija stares at him each chance he has.  It’s obvious by all their actions that the battle and his revelation are still fresh on all of their minds.

He expected their caution.

He doesn’t expect their excitement.

Especially not from his dragon brothers.

It begins on a day when Zeno’s been left to keep watch on the campsite.  Yun, encouraged by the cloudless sky, decides to find more herbs in the surrounding area.  Under the midday sun’s bright rays, Yona and Hak practice their sword-fighting in a nearby field, Yona’s grunts and battle cries just barely carried by the soft breeze.  Jae-ha is gone, collecting water from a stream that is well out of walking distance.  Kija and Shinah are hunting for food.  Zeno, already well-versed in the art of enjoying time alone, stretches out on the ground, humming a song whose origin is long forgotten.  He doesn’t open his eyes until he hears a loud thud from nearby.

“Oh, sorry, did we wake you?” Kija asks when Zeno sits up.

“Nope!  Zeno was just resting my eyes!” he exclaims, waving his hand dismissively.  “What did Hakuryuu and Seiryuu catch?”

Shinah and Kija look down at the lump of dead animal at their feet.  “…Deer…” Shinah answers.  “Still… young…”

Kija removes his cloak, the shoulder speckled in the blood of their catch.  “I wish we could have caught an adult deer, but this one was injured and close to death.”

“You did the right thing!” Zeno tells them as he scoots over to the dead deer.  Clapping his hands together, he whispers a small prayer for its soul.

“Ah, Zeno… -san?”

Zeno quickly finishes his prayer and stares up at Kija, eyebrows furrowed.  “Hakuryuu doesn’t have to be formal with Zeno.  We’re friends!”

Kija clasps his hands together, fingers twitching slightly.  Huh.  That was new.  “You’re so much older than us.  Formality is a given.”

Restraining a sigh, Zeno jumps up to his feet.  He points at Kija, making sure to force the distance between his finger and Kija’s face uncomfortably short.  (Because not only does the action put the other on edge, it also makes Zeno look Super Cool, no arguments allowed).  “Hakuryuu and Zeno are friends!  No need for honorifics!”

Kija stares at him blankly.  “But it’s normal to be formal with elders.”

Kija has him there.  “Zeno’s still a kid at heart!”  Okay, that was definitely a lie.  Out of the corner of his eye, Zeno notices Shinah purse his lips, obviously unconvinced.  “If you have to use honorifics for Zeno, use –kun, not –san!  Like Ryokuryuu does!”

“Zeno… -kun…” Shinah mumbles.

Zeno points his other finger at Shinah.  “Except you, Seiryuu!  It sounds weird coming from you.”

Just as a barely noticeable pout forms on Shinah’s lips, the familiar sound of Jae-ha landing comes from behind Zeno.  He turns around to see Jae-ha set down the water-filled wok that Yun cooks with.  Wet streaks are noticeable on the chest of his changshan.  “What are we talking about?” he asks.

“Hakuryuu’s treating me like an old man!” Zeno complains.  He remembers a little too late that Jae-ha is the _last_ person he should be talking to about age.

“Except you _are_ an old man,” Jae-ha retorts.  And that’s why Zeno’s age is off-limits around him.

“Shut up, Ryokuryuu,” Zeno mumbles.

“Ah, speaking of age…” Kija begins.  Zeno lowers his arms and sets his hands on his hips.  “Since you’re an original dragon, could I ask about the other three dragons?”  Kija stares down at his feet, a rosy red hue on his cheeks.  “At the very least, I would like to know about my ancestor.”

Rejection is the first thing on Zeno’s tongue, harsh but within reason.  “I don’t want to,” is what he thinks to say.  But he doesn’t.  He hates seeing how disheartened Kija becomes whenever he’s strongly rejected.  It doesn’t fit his cute visage at all.  Perhaps it was better to lie, at least so he could keep the subject from ever appearing again.  “I don’t remember very much,” he wants to say.  But the thought of those words causes guilt to weigh down on his already broken heart, so he stops himself from telling the lie.  Chewing on his bottom lip, he looks over at Jae-ha, whose eyes are noticeably gleaming with excited interest.  A glance over at Shinah reveals that he is leaning forward, his mouth tugged in an adorable little frown, a sign that his curiosity has been piqued (but that he’s too shy to say anything about it).  Something instinctual and warm bursts inside Zeno, overriding his distaste for pain in favor of satisfying all his darling little brothers.

“What do you want to know?” he asks as he sits down.  The other three quickly plop down in front of him.

“What was the first Hakuryuu’s favorite food?!” Kija immediately asks.  Zeno can barely contain his laughter.

“ _That_ ’s what you want to know?”  He snorts and pats Kija’s knee.  “You’re so cute, Hakuryuu!  And it was bear, by the way.”

Kija blanches.  “Bear?”

Zeno nods with a giggle.  “Bear!”  He could still remember, albeit hazily, how Guen, during lags between battles, would disappear until the sun was almost setting.  When he returned to the castle, there’d be a fully grown bear thrown over his shoulder, his dragon claws dug into the skin of his catch.  “He grew up in the woods, so he was used to eating all kinds of weird stuff.”

After contemplating the new information for a bit, Kija nods.  He leans forward, hands politely folded in his lap.  “What of the other dragons?  What did he think of them?”

Something prickles Zeno’s eyes.  Quickly, he rubs it away, hoping his little audience doesn’t notice.  “Brothers,” he answers.  “He saw us as his family.”

Kija practically sparkles at that.  Grinning rather maniacally, he looks right at Jae-ha.  “You hear that?  We’re brothers!”

Jae-ha rolls his eyes, but Zeno doesn’t miss the way he smiles.  “Yeah, yeah.  And what an annoying relative you are.”

Zeno chuckles to himself.  He can see Shuten in Jae-ha — in those wild bangs and long hair, in his flippant words yet loving disposition.  “Ryokuryuu didn’t think we were brothers.  He called us a bunch of strangers who just happened to drink the dragon blood.”

Comically, Kija’s jaw drops.  “It’s a hereditary trait?!” he asks, referring to original and current Ryokuryuus’s denial of brotherhood with the other dragons.

Under his breath, Jae-ha says, “But can you blame me?”

Zeno lies down.  He touches his medallion through the cover of his robe, the dragon carving still easy to find under the cloth.  He can remember the suddenness of the time when Hiryuu gifted the necklace to him, with such heavy-hearted sincerity that Zeno felt as though he would be committing a sin should any harm come its way.  For so long, it was his only companion.  He is no longer alone, but the weight and the shape and the sight of the medallion are still a comfort.  “By the end of our journey together, though, I believe Ryokuryuu saw us all as family.  One time, when he was drunk, he told us he would die for us, even for a brat like Seiryuu.”

Zeno hums at the happy memory just as Jae-ha breaks into a blush.  Kija glows with joy.  Shinah taps Zeno’s shoulder.  “…Brat…?” he asks, voice wobbling slightly.

“Don’t worry!” Zeno responds.  He takes Shinah’s hand with his own, gripping his knuckles reassuringly.  “Ryokuryuu and Seiryuu didn’t get along for a while.  Personality clash!  Seiryuu was standoffish and Ryokuryuu liked to pick fights with everyone.  They were such kids!  But Seiryuu would’ve loved you so much.  So would Ryokuryuu.”

Despite Shinah’s face being half-covered by a mask, Zeno swears he can see a blush blooming on his cheeks.  Hesitantly, Shinah nods.  Jae-ha, with a little laugh, pipes up and says, “I like you just fine, Shinah!”

Kija slaps his shoulder, thankfully with his human hand.  “Don’t make Shinah uncomfortable, Jae-ha!”

Shinah whispers that he isn’t uncomfortable, but his brothers fail to hear him.

Zeno laughs and rolls over.  Still holding Shinah’s hand, he closes eyes and settles himself for a nap, his lullaby the adorable arguments of his little dragon brothers.  He prays to spirits in heaven, hoping they can hear him.  He prays to Guen, Abi, and Shuten, hoping they will listen.  He prays for them to bless their successors, hoping Kija, Shinah, and Jae-ha will be protected by their ancestors.

He is not alone anymore.  Surely his brothers in heaven will be overjoyed to know that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was enjoyable <3 Comments are super appreciated!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cynicwithatwist wanted to see Gigan teaching Jae-ha how to swim! I hope you enjoy, my perfect eclair ;D

Jae-ha honestly had no idea how he had gotten roped into this horrible situation.  Maya and Ryo were definitely to blame, since this was their idea in the first place, but not even the two of them combined could have made him change his mind about swimming.  No, this was probably Gigan’s fault — she had a way of talking that made Jae-ha lose any arguments long before he was aware of being defeated.  Yes, that had to be the answer.  Somehow, Gigan had talked him into stripping down to his underclothes, wrapping up the entirety of his dragon leg in several layers of cloth, and arriving at the beach in the middle of the afternoon, when most of the town had retreated for dinner but there were still plenty of divers and mischievous kids and homeless stragglers outside to see Jae-ha.  This was _definitely_ all Gigan’s fault.

“You better not be thinking bad about me,” Gigan said as she arrived next to him.  She, too, had shed her regular clothes, leaving her in a pair of pants and a midriff-bearing shirt.  Her hair was down, flowing gently over her shoulders like a small, powder gray blanket.  In her hands were two small towels for Jae-ha and herself.

Jae-ha crossed his arms over his chest.  “You can’t tell what I’m thinking,” he mumbled.

Gigan laughed tersely.  “Well, you’re making the same face you make whenever you’re mad at someone or something.  My guess is that you’re mad at me or the ocean.”

Jae-ha tilted his head to the side, staring up at her.  “What if it’s both?”

Gigan grinned.  “Then you’re definitely not gonna get your way today.”

He huffed and returned his gaze to the ocean.  It continued to mind its own business, tides reaching over the sand and retreating in a mesmerizingly calm way, as they did every day and would do for eternity.  The ocean was an expansive power, reaching places Jae-ha would never see and harboring people Jae-ha would never know, and it was independently minded, obviously not caring about who or what it swallowed.  Just two years earlier, Jae-ha had nearly become one of its countless victims, so there was really no wonder why the idea of returning to its endless depths was certainly terrifying.  “…Do I really _have_ to learn how to swim?” he mumbled.

“You live in a port city and work on a fishing boat.  Being able to swim is a necessity,” Gigan responded.  “Don’t worry.  I won’t let you drown,” she promised as she began the walk over the sand and into the salt water.  She left the towels just out of reach of the tides.  When the water reached all the way up to her waist, she turned around, hands held out in anticipation of holding Jae-ha’s.

He sighed.  For all her smooth talk and harsh demeanor, Jae-ha knew for certain that Gigan never broke her promises.  Two years by her side had taught him that much, at least.  Clutching his elbows, Jae-ha took a step forward, soon followed by several more hesitant ones, until his knees were submerged in salt water.  Gigan waited, hands still held out for him.  “I don’t like this,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.  “The sand feels weird under my feet.”

Gigan’s reply was to wade through the water until she was standing at equal height with him.  Despite their marked difference in age, Jae-ha was already as tall as her shoulders, but, as they stood in the water, her eyes were exactly level with his.  Her hands waited for him.  He huffed and took them in his own.  Her hands were cold as always, but the touch warmed his entire chest.  She led him further into the ocean, until her chest was submerged and he had to stand on his tiptoes to keep his head above water.

“All right, you ready?” Gigan asked.

“I-I guess…” Jae-ha mumbled.

“Okay.  Then lift your feet off the ground.  When you feel your body begin to sink, kick.”

He nodded.  With a deep breath, he brought his toes from off the ground.  At first, he floated, like jetsam in the shape of a human, but he sunk in a mere heartbeat, weighed down by organs and bones and muscle.  _Kick_ , she had said, so as soon as his toes touched the clammy sand beneath him, he kicked his leg in hopes of swimming.

Instead, he flew.  Out of the water and over Gigan’s head, his hands still holding hers, water splashing around them, he soared for the briefest of moments before crashing down, back first into the ocean.  A resounding _splash!_ gurgled in his ears, a muddled echo inside the water.  Suddenly, his hands were empty, Gigan’s fingers no longer grasping his.  _Traitor!_ , his mind screamed, but rapidly a pair of arms were wrapped around his chest and pulling him above water.  He gasped for air, only to be interrupted by a body-rattling series of coughs.

“You were supposed to swim, not become a flying fish,” Gigan scolded as soon as Jae-ha’s cough calmed down.

“But I’m the soaring green dragon…” Jae-ha mumbled in a half-hearted attempt at humor.  Best not to focus on the fact that he had nearly drowned _again_.  “Flying is literally in my blood.”

“Fish and dragons aren’t related,” Gigan quipped.  Despite her harsh words, Jae-ha could hear the relief and the humor in her voice.  “Unless there are some fish warriors you haven’t told me about?”

Jae-ha chuckled.  “Maybe that’s part of the legend that was omitted!”

Gigan hummed.  Her nose pressed up against the back of his head, blowing air softly into his damp hair.  “What powers could fish gods possibly give to humans?”

“Uh… the power to taste delicious?”

Gigan snorted.  “That wouldn’t be a very useful power.”

Jae-ha grinned.  “Which is why their legend was never told!”

Gigan sighed happily.  “Do you want to try swimming again?”

Jae-ha looked down.  The ocean water wasn’t especially clear, but he could see their feet.  Gigan’s were planted firmly in the sand, keeping her aloft without any trouble.  His own feet, one of which was thankfully still covered in cloth, floated aimlessly, his power useless without a solid ground to touch.  “I guess…” he mumbled.

“All right.”  Gigan moved her hands to hold him up at his ribs.  “Now kick your legs.  _Slowly_.  I don’t want to make an impromptu trip back to the beach.”

“I’ll try…” Jae-ha muttered.  He took another deep breath, and kicked.  Right leg first, with barely any force, then his left, with just a bit of effort, and repeat.  “Like that?”

“Perfect,” Gigan replied.  “Now lift your arms.  Move them in a circle to help you float.”  He did as told.  “Good.  I’m gonna let you go now.  If you start sinking, kick up a bit.  Don’t stop moving your legs.”

“O-okay…”  Slowly, carefully, Gigan slipped her hands from his ribs, until he was all alone in the struggle to stay afloat.  Jae-ha squeezed his eyes shut, tight enough to give himself a headache, following Gigan’s instructions as best he could.  Legs kicking.  Arms moving in a circle.  Kick up when sinking.  Not that hard.

“Well, would you look at that,” Gigan uttered, “you’re doing it.”

His eyes snapped open.  He was!  He was swimming!  Laughter rang from his mouth, warmth he had never known before radiating throughout his chest.  “I did it!  I’m swimming!” he exclaimed.  With a flick of his arms, he managed to turn around and face Gigan, who was smiling at him so, so nicely.  “I’m swimming!!”

Gigan chuckled lowly.  “I can see that.  But you’re not quite swimming yet.”

Jae-ha’s jaw dropped open.  “What?!  There’s more?!”

Something akin to a giggle escaped her.  “You’re mostly floating now.  You have to actually move through the water to swim.  I’ll show you how to another day.”

Jae-ha kicked his feet rapidly, slowly propelling himself forward until he could touch solid ground.  “Why not teach me now?” he demanded.

“Because I have a lot of things to do and you’re probably starving.”

Well, he was kind of hungry.  “Fine.  But you better teach me soon!  This is kind of fun!”

“Of course, of course,” Gigan conceded.  She threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him along as she walked out of the ocean.  “I’ll make you the best swimmer the dragon warriors have ever seen.”

Jae-ha couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from him.  “What about the most beautiful swimmer in Awa?”

“Nope,” Gigan immediately replied.  “That’s my title, brat.”

“Can there be two title-holders?”

Gigan hummed.  “Maybe.  But you’ve got a long way to go until you’re as good as me.”

Jae-ha clenched his fists with determination.  “I’ll make it in no time!”

She chuckled.  “I look forward to that.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guen-tae is injured in battle, and Joo-doh must come to rescue. He survives, of course, but not without having to face the consequence of worrying Yuno.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by an anon on tumblr~

He should have seen it coming, really.  It was a battle strategy that any strategist worth his position would devise.  He was outnumbered, surrounded on all sides by enemy soldiers who fought like total amateurs, yet were so large in quantity that they could effectively wear him down.  His allies were scattered, leaving him with no one to come save him.  He couldn’t even reach his horse, which he had been forced to dismount when taking down a tricky cavalryman.  Of course this was the best time for the enemy’s fastest fighter to appear before the famous Guen-tae, general of the Earth Tribe, when he was cornered and exhausted.

But he hadn’t seen it coming.  After the last amateur soldier was slaughtered, Guen-tae took a quick stamina break, and with his hair falling over his eyes and his breath too short to let him think, he didn’t notice that the ally cavalryman approaching him was wearing his armor wrong.  Lucky for him, he managed to dodge and deflect the first few attacks from his enemy, but fate is cruel to the unprepared.  All it took was wrong one step from Guen-tae, and there was a spear in his shoulder, expertly breaking through his armor and piercing him to the bone.

There wasn’t a second to spare for screaming.  Guen-tae caught himself with his sword, digging the blade into the bloodied earth, and reached to pull the spear from his shoulder.  The enemy soldier looked down upon him with a vindictive smirk.  He wanted to bite back, jokingly scold his foe that only an idiot smiles when his opponent hasn’t fallen yet, but with one pained heartbeat, he realized he had already been defeated.  Poison.  _Of course_.

“You damn coward…” Guen-tae growled out before his consciousness broke apart.

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly enough for Guen-tae, when he woke up, there was no grand palace with dragon gods waiting for him.  Instead, there were frantic doctors hurrying about, tending to wounded soldiers who screamed at every touch.  In his periphery, Guen-tae could spot a strongly familiar, overly angry face, with a scar on one cheek and cropped black hair.

“So you came to save me, huh?” Guen-tae mumbled, pushing himself up into a sitting position.  Intense pain stabbed his shoulder as soon as he moved, but he ignored it.  Joo-doh, the perpetually irritated General of the Sky Tribe, spared him a glance before re-focusing his gaze somewhere else.  Following his line of sight led Guen-tae to see King Soo-won, paying his respects to a Fire Tribe soldier about to die.  “Thought I was about to go where that guy’s going…” he mumbled, mostly to himself.

“He’s going somewhere much better than you would,” Joo-doh quipped as he crossed his arms.  “What were you thinking, getting cornered like that?”

“Last I checked, being tricked on the battlefield isn’t enough to get me barred from the Heavens,” Guen-tae remarked.  Joo-doh clicked his tongue and turned his body to face Guen-tae.

“You know what I meant,” he stated, a current of lava coursing through his voice.  “You abandoned your men to die out in a field, alone, where you very well could have been beheaded and paraded around by the enemy.  Having you die like that would have done irreparable damage to the Earth Tribe’s morale.”

Anger flared in the back of his throat, a scorching heat that charged his words until they were trembling with anticipation to be released.  “And here I thought you were worried about me,” he bit.  “No wonder you ain’t got a wife yet — nobody wants a husband who only cares about their position.”

“You make it sound like Joo-doh is your husband,” King Soo-won suddenly interjected, just before Joo-doh could burst into fury over yet another crack at his unmarried status.  “I hope Lady Yuno is aware of your decision.”

A bark of laughter erupted from Guen-tae, easily overriding his ire.  “Your Majesty, if I even wanted a male partner, I’d sooner pick that geezer Mundok over Joo-doh!  Besides, Yuno wouldn’t let me have such bad taste!”

A pleasant grin flitted over Soo-won’s lips.  “So you let your wife choose your partners?”

A part of Guen-tae wanted to answer, _As if I want anyone but her_ , but instead he opted to say, “She has pretty good taste, if I do say so myself.”

Soo-won laughed softly.  “I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed to see that you survived.”

Guen-tae hummed.  “She’s always happy when I come home from battle, but it’s not like this is the first time I’ve been injured.  Doubt she’d really be all that overjoyed.”

Soo-won’s grin shifted into one that was nervous and a bit pained.  “Well, you’ve been out for about a day now.  I sent out a messenger as soon as I discovered that you had been poisoned.  Since we couldn’t be sure that you would survive, we needed Yuno to be ready for the ramifications, because she is the default leader in the event of your sudden passing.”

And just like that, Guen-tae’s humor shifted to total worry.  “You _WHAT_?”  With no time left to think, he slid out of his makeshift bedding and hurried to stand.  His whole body ached, but he couldn’t be bothered to care about that.  “Do you have any idea how worried she has to be?  She can’t run the Tribe!”  He grunted as he tried to pull his robes back over his torso.  But when he grabbed the sleeve to cover his injured shoulder, Joo-doh quickly tugged it back down.  “Hey, this is no time to be staking your claim on me!”

Joo-doh’s brow twitched.   “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Soo-won stepped between them.  “We’re planning to begin the return trip today.  Please, be patient.  We will take you back to Chi’shin before going to Kuuto or Saika, I promise.”

Guen-tae clicked his tongue, knowing there was no arguing against the young King.  He jerked his sleeve out of Joo-doh’s grip and sat back down.  “Fine.  But you better make the trip quick.”

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, “overjoyed” was a total understatement for Yuno’s reaction.  As soon as he returned to his castle in Chi’shin, shoulder dressed only in bandages, sleeve hanging limply at his side because it hurt too much to try to put it on, Yuno quite nearly tackled him to the ground, stopped only by the presence of servants, the King of Kouka, and soldiers.  But once everyone was dismissed or took their leave, and Guen-tae was able to go to the privacy of his room, his wife finally did tackle him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest.

Guen-tae clenched his teeth to keep himself from yelping in pain.  Yuno, for all her adorable tendencies and lady-in-waiting tutelage, was really _such_ a giant hassle to deal with.  Guen-tae put a hand over head, weaving his fingers into her beautiful blonde locks, and prayed to whichever god that dealt with marriages to keep her from crying over him.  “Be careful, will you?” he grumbled.  “You could’ve made me bang my head.”

He heard Yuno sniffle, but, luckily, nothing wet dripped onto his chest.  Ah, so prayer really _did_ work.  Guen-tae would have to go pay his respects as soon as possible.  “Sorry…” she whispered.  Yuno lifted her head and leaned over to kiss his injured shoulder delicately.  “I was just,” she sniffled again, “so worried!”  She brought her face to hover over his, so he could see the tears welling in her eyes, the unsightly wrinkles in her chin as she clenched her jaw to keep from crying, the fall of her blonde hair around her pink cheeks.  It was strange, he thought, how beautiful she could still be in this state.  “You’re my husband!  Nobody could ever take your place!”

Guen-tae groaned, partially in response to her unnecessary worry, partially to the parts of him that were pleased by her concern.  “Geez, how many times do I have to tell you?”  Using his good arm, he sat up, and Yuno backed up accordingly.  But she remained in his lap, sitting on her knees in the space between his legs.  “It’s my duty to fight for Kouka and her King.  There’s no place better for me to die than on the battlefield.”

“I know…” Yuno rubbed at her eyes with her hands, drying them as best she could.  “But I’m not ready to live without you.  I’m sorry for my selfishness…”

She hiccupped slightly, and Guen-tae’s arms moved on their own accord.  They wrapped around her and held her close to his chest, even as his shoulder thumped in agony at being moved.  Without word or warning, Yuno hugged him by the neck, pulling herself even closer to him.  He sighed and buried his face in her gorgeous golden locks.  “Jeez, just be happy I’m home, okay?  Don’t think so much about the future.”

She hiccupped again, but she relaxed, completely, in his hold.  “O-okay…” she replied, and he could hear the joy and the relief in her voice that he was alive and well, with her, in that moment.  Guen-tae moved slightly to kiss her neck.  Yuno hummed happily.  “Love you…” she whispered.

“Yeah, love you, too,” he mumbled in return.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by uniguinflutist on tumblr! Sorry if it seems kind of rushed ^n^;;

The day was normal until _it_ happened.  The bunch was settled in a meadow, simply biding their time until Yun managed to make enough medicines to sell at a nearby town.  Yona and Hak were training as usual, Zeno was taking a midmorning nap, Shinah was searching for ingredients with Yun, Kija was checking everyone’s inventory (at Yun’s request), and Jae-ha, with not much to do, was polishing her boots.  Dust gathered easily on the white leather of her shoes, so she had to clean them as often as she could.  Lucky for her, nobody took much interest in her when she absorbed herself in the meticulous work of removing stains from her _very_ expensive boots, so she could sit with her dragon foot out (and nicely wrapped up in bandages) and not a soul would bother her about the ugly green talons that glimmered in the sun despite her best efforts to cover them.

That is, until Kija decided there was something more important than inventory to be attended to.

“Jae-ha, can I ask a favor of you?”

Immediately, Jae-ha covered her dragon foot with the cloth she had been cleaning her boots with.  She stared up at her fellow female dragon warrior, hoping her actions didn’t seem suspicious at all.  “Sure thing, Kija.  What do you need?”

Kija took to her knees beside Jae-ha, sitting on her ankles with her hands folded politely in her lap.  “My back began hurting all of a sudden.  I was wondering if you could help me?  You’ve mentioned that you are good at massages.”

Well, it was certainly true that Jae-ha knew how to give a massage, but most of the techniques she was familiar with weren’t exactly appropriate for Kija’s delicate (or, should she say, _pure_ ) nature.  “Depends on the kind of massage you want.”

Kija tilted her head, eyes wide and innocent.  Her glistening white hair fell over her cheeks, like a waterfall of snow.  “I’m only asking for a back massage.  That’s not very difficult, is it?”

“Well, then, where on your back?  Lower, upper, middle, shoulders?” Jae-ha asked.

“Ah!  Upper.”  Kija got up on her toes, not standing but not about to smudge the white of her pants and dress with grass stains, and turned around, showing her back to Jae-ha.  “Specifically, around here.”  With her dragon’s hand, Kija pointed to the area between her shoulder blades while she settled back down on her knees.  “Is that fine?”

“Yes, it’s just fine,” Jae-ha responded.  While she was rather unaccustomed to doing upper back massages, they weren’t very difficult.  She was a tiny bit disappointed that Kija wasn’t requesting something a little more intimate, but that was probably for the best — as amazing as Kija admittedly was, it would certainly be a bad idea for Jae-ha to encourage relations with another dragon warrior, let alone the one with a _dragon’s hand_.  “Could you take off your cloak for me?” she inquired as she slipped her boots back on.

“Certainly.”  Kija did as asked, with a surprising amount of quickness for someone whose dominant hand was inhuman.  When she moved to fold the cloth, however, Jae-ha could hear some of the fabric ripping.  Some things never change.

“I’ll do it.  Don’t ruin your clothes,” Jae-ha interjected.  She hurried over to Kija’s side and took the cloak from her.  It was a little more than a hassle to fold up such a long piece of clothing, but she succeeded after a few rounds of trial and error.  She set it down in the grass next to her and shifted to face Kija.  “Lie down on your stomach and rest your head on your hands, please,” she directed.  Kija nodded and followed her instructions.  Jae-ha did her best not to think about how much more noticeable Kija’s curves were like this — cloak-less and lying on the ground, showing off how well-fitting her dress was.  She had a barely-noticeable waist, but what she lacked there was easily made up with her rear.  Jae-ha cleared her throat.  She _really_ needed to visit the nearest brothel sometime soon.

“Jae-ha, are you okay?” Kija piped up.  She rested her cheek on her folded hands, looking up at Jae-ha with such terribly gorgeous eyes.  Jae-ha could almost feel herself melting under that gaze.

…Yeah, this had probably been a horrible idea.

But still, Jae-ha pioneered on.  “Nothing’s wrong!  Just relax and let big sister Jae-ha take care of you.”

Kija hummed her assent and turned her neck, resting her chin on her knuckles instead of her cheek.  Jae-ha cleared her throat again, just in case, and stretched her arms.  Her muscles yawned and her bones popped, and she finally settled down for the task before her.  A back massage was not a terrible task, even if her hormones were decidedly raunchy at the worst of times (unlucky her that they had chosen _Kija_ of all people to fancy that day).  So she rested her hands on the expanse between Kija’s shoulder blades, and dug in the base of her palm.

That was when _it_ happened.  A low moan, far from appropriate for the situation, trickled out from Kija.  Immediately, Jae-ha pulled back her hands, as though she had been burned by some sacred item, and the day finally stopped being normal.  Kija’s body shifted, her hips rolling, as she hummed happily and rested her cheek on her hands again, her eyes closed.  Pink dusted her face, blissful and cherubic, and Jae-ha bit down on her bottom lip.

In the grand scheme of things, this situation was not too out of the ordinary.  Jae-ha knew well enough that some people reacted strongly to a good (child-appropriate) massage.  But, at that particular moment in time, Jae-ha wanted to _scream_ — at herself, at her inappropriately-timed libido, at Kija, particularly if Kija would assent to taking over, helping the unfortunately needy woman as she reached down a (preferably human) hand to the warm area between her thighs and—

**_No_**.  _No no no no no no no **no**_.  She would _not_ let her thoughts roam there, pleasantness be damned.  She was a grown woman, with perfect control over her body, and _she could handle this_.

“Jae-ha, are you sure you’re alright?” Kija suddenly asked.  Jae-ha snapped herself from her thoughts and refocused her attention on the woman in front of her.  Kija’s eyes were open again, her brow knitted in worry, and rather adorable.

“Ah, yes, I’m fine, really,” Jae-ha answered, covering her mouth as she forced a giggle.  “I’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

“Oh!”  Kija sprung up, hands planted firmly on the ground as she moved to get on her feet.  “I’ll go call Yun, then.  He’ll be able to help.”

Jae-ha grabbed Kija’s arm.  “That’s really not necessary!  This will pass soon enough, don’t worry.”

A small pout appeared on Kija’s lips, obviously unconvinced, but she relaxed her elbows and lied back down.  Jae-ha released her arm and took a deep breath.  _She could do this_ —

“Jae-ha, is it a problem with your leg, perhaps?”

—If Kija would shut up, that is.

“What makes you say that?”

Apparently deciding that she wasn’t going to get a back massage, Kija rolled over and sat up.  “When I came over to ask for a massage, you suddenly grabbed your foot.  I was worried that you might be hurt.”

Ah, so she had noticed.  Jae-ha pulled her ponytail over her shoulder and focused on the shimmering green strands of hair so she wouldn’t think about what all Kija had managed to see.  “You just surprised me.  I’m not in pain.”

“Then why would you hide your leg just because you were surprised?” Kija inquired.

Jae-ha restrained a sigh.  As beautiful as Kija was, she was certainly too naïve for her own good.  “Look, I’m going to be upfront with you.  I don’t like people seeing my dragon’s leg.  It’s as simple as that.”

Kija blinked — once, twice, then several times in rapid succession, as her face stretched into an expression of total surprise.  “How could that be?  Your leg is a natural part of you!  I can understand if you’re trying to hide your powers, but to hide it for the sake of aesthetics is nonsense.”

Something in Jae-ha sparked at that, like the first embers just before a blazing fire.  It grumbled in her stomach and weighed down on her head, twin demons that urged her to spew vile words until Kija was absolutely miserable for what she had said.  Jae-ha threw her ponytail back over her shoulder and pretended they didn’t exist.  “I don’t expect you to understand.  But, think of it this way — the people of Seiryuu Village, as you have described them to me, are rather similar to the people of Ryokuryuu Village.”  Having said all she wanted to say, Jae-ha stood up.  She looked off to the nearby forest, wondering if she would have enough time to hunt before the rest of the group reconvened.

There was a rustling of grass and clothes nearby.  Jae-ha spared a glance to the origin of the noise and saw Kija standing up, her mouth drawn down in an unbefitting frown.  Jae-ha considered jumping away before she could say a word, but Kija beat her to the punch.

“I-I am sorry, Jae-ha.”  Clutching her hands, Kija bowed deeply.  “It didn’t occur to me to think of your upbringing.  Please forgive me for my rudeness.”

And what was Jae-ha to do, with such a lovely lady bowing so remorsefully?  She certainly couldn’t ignore her — after all, how could she have really known, when the most Jae-ha had ever shared about her childhood was being held in chains so she wouldn’t jump around?  Nothing about the abuse had ever been shared.  Jae-ha put her hands on her hips and shifted her weight to her human leg, deciding to forego her own self-pity.  “Don’t worry so much about it.  So long as you understand, it’s fine.”

Kija raised her torso and the corner of her lips.  “Good.  Perhaps we could go back to doing what we were doing?  I know it must be rude of me to ask a favor of you so soon after slighting you, but my back really does hurt a lot.”

But _that_ was a completely different matter.  “Ahhh, I don’t know…” Jae-ha mumbled.

Kija’s smile dropped again.  “Of course.  I understand.  My apologies.”

Kija moved to bow again, but Jae-ha immediately interrupted her, waving her hand in front of her face.  “No!  No, no, no!  It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that, um…”

Kija tilted her head to the side, a little too cutely.  “What is it?”

Jae-ha dropped her hands to her side.  Well, as long as they were being forthright with each other… “You moan when I massage you.”

Kija blinked.  “Isn’t that normal?  It’s a sign of pleasure, after all, and massages should be pleasurable.”

Jae-ha forced herself to look away from Kija’s adorable, naïve eyes.  “That’s true.  But, ah… how should I say it…?”

“You can feel free to speak bluntly,” Kija added.

Immediately, Jae-ha clamped her hands onto Kija’s shoulders.  She bowed her head to avoid eye contact, and happily got a nice view of Kija’s breasts.  “Then, to put it bluntly, your moaning has turned me on and I would very much like to have sex with you.”

All she heard was a cute, “O-oh…” from Kija before she was swiftly knocked out by a lovely, white dragon’s fist.  Definitely worth it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A birthday gift for nemurenaivoron on tumblr!! Based on a really old request she gave me.

The midsummer sun scorches his back, invisible stretches of light and heat pressing against him like unwelcomed hands, slipping over his neck and under his light robe. Hair and cloth stick uncomfortably to his skin, and he is sure his horse is twice as exhausted as he is, but he rides on. The route to the village is familiar enough that the trip seems short, anyway. He can handle this much (especially for Yona).

He makes sure to dismount close to the village, far enough that if any of his soldiers came to the village (which they hopefully never would), they wouldn’t spot his horse on the way, yet near enough that he could make a quick escape. He removes the small pail he had fastened to the horse’s saddle, sets it on the ground, and then quickly fills it halfway with water from his goatskin. He pets the horse’s long, beautiful, shining neck as the steed snorts thankfully and starts drinking.

“I will return after the sun’s peak,” Tae-jun promises as he removes the various bags of provisions from the horse’s saddle. If the horse hears him, she makes no sign of acknowledging him, even as he begins his trot towards the village that the Dark Dragon and the Happy Hungry Bunch took for themselves.

* * *

The village, as usual, reminds him of a bug squashed on his boot. Insignificant, already dead, but his fault, nonetheless. The villagers greet him, chipper in spite of their emaciated bodies, and direct him to the nearest member of the Happy Hungry Bunch. Zeno waves at him as soon as he sees him, and abandons the children he was playing with to grab two bags of provisions. Hak, who is repairing a roof nearby, refuses to welcome Tae-jun while he passes, but Kija, carrying wooden boards to Hak, nods his head in acknowledgement. Tae-jun returns the gesture before running off to see the most important person.

In moments, he finds _her_ – Princess Yona, beautiful and wonderful, her short red hair flowing magnificently in the breeze. She’s folding laundry with some of the village mothers. Yun is next to them, cleaning clothes and blankets with the children. Tae-jun doesn’t dare interrupt them, so he sits on a nearby rock and waits.

But Yona, wonderful Yona, notices him in no time.  
  
“Ah! Tae-jun!” she exclaims. Her voice is like honey and bliss, and he swears his body is floating with pure joy when she calls his name. She says a few words to the village mothers, then hurries over to him. He bounces to his feet before she reaches him, and resists every urge in his body to drop the provisions in his arms and hug her.

“I’m glad to see you,” Yona tells him, her smile so pretty. She collects his bags from him. Practically on cue, Yun arrives, takes the bags from Yona, &, with a word of thanks to Tae-jun, goes to ration out the food to the village. Much to Tae-jun’s joy, Yona doesn’t join Yun. Instead, she pinches Tae-jun’s sleeve with a grin and says, “I have something I want to give you, as thanks for all your help.”

He’s speechless. A present, for him? From Yona?! Surely nothing he has ever done deserves such a coveted gift. But he follows her when she walks away, follows her when she leaves the village, follows her all the way to her campsite.

His first thought, of course, is that this is a confession. That all these days spent together have awoken the Princess’s feelings for him. His second thought is much more grim – that this is an execution, that she suddenly decided that he is untrustworthy, despite of all his efforts to prove his loyalty to her and her cause.  He frowns, but he’s willing to accept that fate, as well.

Neither event happens, however.  Yona sneaks into a small tent and returns with a crown, made of intricately weaved flowers in various colors.  It’s beautiful.  It reminds him of the days he would spend in the garden as a child, plucking flowers from the grounds to give to his father and mother, and sometimes Kyo-ga when he was still willing to treat Tae-jun as his brother (and not as the failure of the family).  It fills him with nostalgic warmth, the kind that brings tears that won’t fall to his eyes.

“Is that…for me…?” Tae-jun asks, just to make sure he isn’t becoming emotional over nothing.

He half expects Yona to deny him, maybe even throw the crown in his face, but instead she smiles again, teeth peeking from behind her lips, and she nods.  He feels his lips quiver into a grin.  “I hope you like it.  Shin-ah found a bunch of flowers somewhere nearby, and when he brought them to the village for us to see, some of the kids managed to put it in a crown.”  She laughs fondly.  His heart soars.  “I thought it would be a perfect gift for you.”

Unable to speak for fear of actually crying with joy, he simply bows his head in thanks.  Yona immediately crowns him.  Tae-jun thinks to himself, a shiver running down his spine and his chest swelling with indescribable joy, _Even if it’s only a crown made of flowers, as long as it is placed on my head by her hands, I feel more honored than any King could ever be_.


	14. Finding Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for OMGitsgreen/itsomgitsgreen on tumblr, for her birthday~ This is my first time in a really long time writing in first person, so I hope it's okay!
> 
> (p.s. this is part of the Modern AU/Kouka Koukou AU)

It’s only my third day living here, but I have counted five cats, two dogs, and one ferret.  They’re all small, in their own ways, skinny or no larger than a human toddler.  They’re all dirty, pretty fur covered in grime and filth (and a banana peel for one of the cats).  They’re all afraid of me, even though Ao tries to play with them and they seem to like her.

“That’s pretty normal for animals on the street,” Jae-ha tells me as he combs through all the clothes Yona and Hak bought for me.  “They’re scared of everything.  Don’t take it personally.”

Even though I’ve lived here for a few days, I can’t say I’ve felt any desire to unpack.  This is my fourth home in the span of a month.  My bag full of items I’ve never had before is more familiar and comforting than any of these places I’ve stayed in.  But Kija insists that this place is permanent, even though I sleep on the couch because I don’t want to take a bed from anyone.  So I’m sitting next to Jae-ha as he sorts my clothes and places them in the hallway closet, and a part of me shivers when he folds a blue sweater over a red T-shirt (because that _**isn’t right**_ even if I don’t know why), but I don _ **’**_ t say a thing.  I tug the hood of my white hoodie further around my face to ignore the feeling.

“If you want,” Jae-ha continues, “I can give you some food to feed the animals.  You can usually gain their trust if you feed them.”

I nod.  It sounds like a good idea.  I bring my knees up to my chin and bury my nose in the space between them.  Warm.  I feel comfortable even as I’m watching someone move me into yet another new place.  Jae-ha turns his head to me.  Oh, right, he wasn’t looking at me until now.  “I... like the idea...” I tell him.  He nods with a grin and returns to folding.

 

* * *

 

On Tuesday, the fifth day of my life in the apartment, Jae-ha gives me a few slices of bread and a small bag with torn up pieces of ham.  I settle myself in the alleyway with the food as soon as Jae-ha has left for work and Kija has gone to his morning classes at college.  It’s a warm day, so I keep my hood down.  Ao rests in the pouch created by the hood.  I stare at the side of the adjacent building, where graffiti has been poorly covered with black paint, until the cat with the banana peel appears.  Its a black cat, with a big white spot of fur over its left eye, and his teeth are yellow when it meows at me.

I stretch out my hand, palm down.  The cat backs away, back arching slightly.  _“They’re scared of everything.”_   Right, can’t forget that.  I tear off a piece of bread and throw it to the banana peel cat.  It jumps at the bread’s landing, but it doesn’t run.  I follow it up with a piece of ham.  This time, the cat doesn’t jump.  I scoot away, so it knows that I won’t steal the food.  Ao squeaks and bounces to my shoulder.  Luckily, she doesn’t go after the food, so I pet her head and let her be my eyes while the cat considers eating.

At least twenty people pass by the alleyway by the time Ao squeaks twice and I look to see that the cat has approached the food and is eating.  When it finishes, it looks up at me, licking its mouth with a tiny, cute, pink tongue.  I quickly toss to it three bits of ham and a piece of bread as wide as my palm.  It eats without hesitation and meows again.  I reach out my hand once more and, this time, it approaches me, sniffs my fingers for a second before rubbing its head against them, and I think I hear it purr.  I stroke my hand along its back, removing the banana peel as I go, and this time it definitely purrs.  I’m about to pet it again, but then a shadow appears, and it runs away.

I look up at the owner of the shadow.  It’s Kija-nii, sporting white pants and blue cardigan.  “Oh no, I’m so sorry, Shin-ah!  I didn’t mean to startle her...”

I shake my head.  It isn’t his fault.  I stand up and Ao jumps over to Kija, who catches her in his hands and settles her on his shoulder.

“Hopefully she’ll come back tomorrow...” Kija mumbles.  I nod.  A tiny smile reaches Kija’s lips (it’s sweet).  “Come on, now, let’s go inside and clean your hands.  I hope that cat wasn’t carrying anything.”

“It was... carrying a banana peel...” I tell him.

“Well, let’s hope the banana peel isn’t hazardous,” he answers, expression serious.  He pinches the sleeve of my hoodie and takes me inside.

 

* * *

 

On my seventh day, Jae-ha brings me a set of keys, three in total.  One is for the building’s front door.  One is for our apartment.  One is for the mail slot.  He’s put them on a blue key ring so that I’ll know they’re mine.  Kija also brings me wet cat food and dry dog food to offer to the animals.  When Yona comes to visit me that day, because Thursdays are the only day she doesn’t have archery practice after school, she squeals. (It hurts my ears.)

“That’s so great, Shin-ah!” Yona cheers as she sits next to me in the alleyway.  “That means they accept you!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the black cat with the white patch of fur around its eye, and two skinny dogs.  They’re waiting, patiently, for food.  I hum in response to Yona and pass her a small can of cat food.  Ao squeeks and jumps from my shoulder to her head.  Yona happily opens the can and places it an adequate distance away from us.  She reaches up and pets Ao while she returns to my side.  I pick up two bowls I brought from the apartment and fill them to the brim with dog food.  I place them on either side of the alleyway, away from the cat food and away from each other.

It doesn’t take the animals long.  Almost as soon I sit down next to Yona, opening my mouth to tell her how to wait, one of the dogs appear.  He’s huge, with ears the size of Ao, a snout as big as a shovel blade, and a long, sleek, bony body.  Without need for investigation, he goes for the bowl of dog food on the left side of the alleyway.  Seconds into his meal, the other dog approaches.  It’s much tinier than him, the size of a puppy, covered in tawny fur that has been coated in mud in random places.  The bridge of its snot has white hair growing there, hinting at old age.  The tiny dog sniffs the other bowl of dog food, decides against it, and goes for the cat food.

 _No, that’s wrong_ , I try to tell the dog, but Yona grabs my arm as soon as I lean toward the animals.  Finally, the cat struts in.  Unbothered, it eats from the last free bowl, raising its head with every bit of kibble it eats, letting spectators see how it breaks down the large bits of food into tiny chunks with its yellow teeth.

“They’re cute,” Yona whispers.  I look over to her and see her watching the animals with a small smile.  She’s much cuter, I think.  “Do you know if the landlord would let you adopt any of them?”

I shake my head.  I hadn’t thought about the question.  I already have Ao.  As if knowing that I’m thinking of her, Ao squeeks three times and scampers down Yona’s head and arm, and then up my leg and onto my knee.  I scratch the top of her head with my finger, which makes her close her eyes and tilt her head in appreciation.

“I’ll ask Jae-ha and Kija!” Yona exclaims.  She pulls out her smartphone from her school bag and rapidly types out a text.  Not even a minute after she sends it out, she receives a text.  As she reads it, her small, cute smile droops into an adorable pout.  “Jae-ha says no...” she mumbles, the disappointment obvious in her voice.  Her phone _ping_ s with another text message.  “Kija also says no!” Dramatically, she sighs and bows her head.  She’s funny.  I like that about her.

Yona recovers quickly.  She looks up at me with a tiny smile and eyebrows titled up.  I think that’s a reassuring expression.  “That sucks, Shin-ah.  I think you would’ve looked really good with a cat.”

Before I can answer, a rapid succession of _ping_ s come from her phone.  Yona checks the texts.  Her expression comedically shifts into one of shock and horror.  “I’m so sorry, Shin-ah!” she exclaims without looking away from her phone.  “But I forgot that I promised to go shopping with Lili today!  I have to go!”  She pockets her phone and hugs my shoulders, tightly and quickly.  “I’ll see you Sunday!  Promise.”

I nod my head and tell her it’s okay.  She grins and runs off, waving goodbye.  I’m sad to see her go.  I miss her warmth too easily.  But it’s okay.  I’ll see her Sunday.

 

* * *

 

I don’t see any of the animals again.  The only exception is the black cat with the white patch of fur around its eye.  Every morning and afternoon, when I go out to feed it, I find the cat already waiting in the alleyway, siting patiently, tail wagging slowly when it sees me.  On my thirteenth day of living in the apartment, it follows me when I leave the alleyway.  I tuck it in my hoodie and hurry upstairs, because I don’t want the landlord to see it and get mad.

I wash the cat in the kitchen sink, because it’s too pretty to remain so caked in filth.  As it turns out, the cat is a girl.  I name her Yona.  She meows happily at the name, and purrs when I hug her toweled body close.  I like her a lot.  Ao isn’t too happy to see (cat) Yona receive so much affection, so I pepper her with kisses and scratches until she’s pleased again.

I think I’m happy here.  It’s not home, whatever that may be, but with (cat) Yona and Ao, in this nice, quiet apartment -- I think I would like to stay here for a long time.

 

* * *

 

“So... you adopted a cat, I see,” Hak says.  It’s my seventeenth day here, and it is a Sunday.  He’s visiting with Yona and Yun.  Yona is sitting on the couch with me and Hak, petting the cat, who has curled up in her lap and purrs with every touch.  Yun is sitting, legs crossed, in the large recliner chair, and playing with Ao.  Jae-ha is lying down at our feet, shirtless as he usually is at home, while Kija is across from us, sitting behind the coffee table while he works on a class assignment.

“Without permission!” Jae-ha rebuttals.  “Any day now, the landlord is gonna find out and we’ll be in a lot of trouble!”

“Yet you let Shin-ah keep the cat,” Yun remarks in a deadpan.

Jae-ha pouts.  “Of course I did.  I’m not so heartless that I’d make him give up something he loves.”

“We still need to get her her shots and a collar,” Kija comments.  “So I wouldn’t say she’s _officially_ ours yet.”

“When you do that, we should re-name her.  It’s going to be confusing if I have to keep calling her Yona,” Jae-ha complains.

Yona the human giggles.  “I think it’s really sweet that you gave her my name, Shin-ah!”

My cheeks heat up immediately.  I stick my hands in the pockets of my hoodie and hope that the churning in my stomach will pass soon.

“Still, it might be a good idea to give her a new name,” Hak says.  He reaches down and scratches behind (cat) Yona’s ears.  “Got any ideas, Shin-ah?”

“...Ao,” I answer.

“Be more original!” both Yun and Jae-ha shout.

I frown.  I don’t know any other names.

Yun grumbles.  “How about Shiroku?  I has the character for _white_ , which matches her eye,” he offers.

“Following that logic, wouldn’t something with the character for _black_ work better?” Kija questions.  “Such as Kurone?”

“That’s kinda boring, though,” Hak mutters.

“...Shirokuro...” I say.

“Isn’t that the name of a dog in some manga?” Jae-ha asks.  Everyone ignores him.

“I think Shirokuro sounds fine,” Yona tells me.  “It’s cute.”

“You think everything is cute,” Hak mumbles.  Yona punches his arm.

“Shirokuro it is, then!” Kija declares.  He’s shining with excitement.  “Is that fine with you, Shin-ah?  Are you happy with it?”

I nod my head.  “Shirokuro is good.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thatcantankerouscat said to mcgrillzdumpinc:  
> Hmm... I suppose any situation where Jae-ha and Yoon were alone would be great. Such as going herb picking together or just talking when the others have gone to sleep. Is that okay?
> 
> Anonymous asked:  
> Yoon x Jae-ha is my ship, but I wish there was more material for this pair...If it's not too much trouble, I'd be really happy if you wrote something with this prompt: Yoon goes scouting around the area on Jae-ha's back but Jae-ha turns it into a sightseeing and shopping trip.

For all the troubles they caused, Yun knew well enough that not a single member of the group was useless.  The many men (minus himself and Zeno) provided enough physical strength and stamina to handle the most arduous of tasks that came with nearly nonstop traveling.  Carrying all the supplies, packing and unpacking, gathering supplies — it was all made so much easier and done so much quicker than it would be if it was just himself, Yona, and Hak.  Each member of the group had his or her own strengths and weaknesses, with individual faults that were easily filled in by another member, but Yun could easily single out the most useful person of the so-called Dark Dragon and the Happy Hungry Bunch.

“Jae-ha!”

“Hm?  What is it, Yun?”

Sure, there might be a _bit_ of bias when it came to Yun’s ruling.  But, that notwithstanding, Jae-ha was easily the most reliable. Besides Zeno, Jae-ha was the eldest. That alone granted him some favor. Moreover, he had traveled enough that he could provide information about various territories (mostly in the Earth and Water Tribes) that Hak occasionally faltered on.  Plus, while it would be difficult to get him to admit to it, he could easily adapt to people and remained relatively level-headed regardless of the situation, which made him an easy pick for unofficial caretaker of the group should Yun be out of commission (which certainly helped him rest a little easier).  Finally, there was the ( _super cool_ ) jumping ability of his, which not only made him a fantastic pair with Shin-ah whenever scouting was needed, but also granted cheap and quick transportation whenever needed.

Speaking of that jumping ability, it was exactly what Yun needed that day.

“I need to gather some more herbs.  Shin-ah says there’s a field where I can find some nearby,” Yun said. He crouched down so he could be at eye level with the sitting Jae-ha.

“So you need me to give you a ride?” Jae-ha asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.  Yun knew that Jae-ha wasn’t much of a fan of carrying everyone (all his mumblings about being the team horse had made that pretty clear), but Yun wasn’t about to let him off that easily.  Despite all his good qualities, Jae-ha was still a reckless flirt with a penchant for annoying his friends.  Yun had to keep him in line somehow.

“Yeah, thanks,” Yun replied.

Jae-ha, who had been polishing his boots until then, muttered that he hadn’t even agreed to take Yun.  Nevertheless, he slipped his shoes back on, one over his human foot, the other over his wrapped-up dragon foot.  He got to his feet, but didn’t stand up.  He was waiting for Yun to climb onto his back.

Heat rushed to Yun’s face.  He didn’t know why.  He couldn’t think of a single reason why he should be embarrassed.  This was going to be a simple trip, one that was similar to so many trips he had taken in the past on Jae-ha’s back.  It was sudden, it was unnerving, and it was annoying. Swallowing down his senseless hormones, Yun climbed onto Jae-ha’s back, the same way he always did.  First he held onto Jae-ha’s broad shoulders and then waited for Jae-ha to stand up a little taller, so he’d be closer to Yun’s height.  Next, Yun jumped to secure his legs against Jae-ha’s sides.  Jae-ha quickly caught Yun’s knees in his strong, slender arms, and tugged a little to settle Yun’s body comfortably on his own.  Finally, Yun rested his chest against Jae-ha’s sexy back — wait, _what_?  No.  No, that thought was **_not allowed_**.  He was going to forget about that.  Immediately.

“Yun?” Jae-ha called.  He turned his head so he could look at the boy on his back.  “You’re tensing up.  Are you okay?”

“Ye-yeah.  Absolutely fine,” Yun lied.  Jae-ha didn’t appear convinced.  “Don’t worry about it!  Let’s just go.”

Jae-ha raised his eyebrow and stared at Yun for a few more seconds before finally turning his head back around.  “All right.  Which way, O Navigator?”

“E-East…” Yun replied.  He exhaled slowly through his nose, watching a few strands of flyaway hairs on the back of Jae-ha’s head flow to the slight breeze.  He needed to calm down.  Just think about making dinner for the group and some medicines to sell, and nothing else.  (Instead he found himself thinking about how pretty Jae-ha’s vibrant green hair was.)

“Are you sure?” Jae-ha asked.

“Of course I’m sure!” Yun snapped.

Jae-ha laughed, small vibrations from the action exuding from his back and against Yun’s stomach, tickling him slightly.  “East it is, then!”

Without any further delay (or warning!), they were in the sky, wind whipping against their faces, hair blown every which way.  Yun, wholly unprepared, grappled to hold on, fingers digging into Jae-ha’s shoulders on the ascent and, when gravity worked again, wrapping his arms tightly around Jae-ha’s neck.  Jae-ha landed swiftly with a few hacking coughs.  Yun loosened his arms immediately.

“Don’t hold on so tight!” Jae-ha scolded, voice raspy.

“Then give some warning before you jump!” Yun shouted in return. Jae-ha visibly flinched.

“Fine, fine,” Jae-ha replied languidly.  He shifted Yun’s body again, a little push that made the boy jump, and he began to count down from the number five.  He spoke slowly, noticeably sarcastic in his tone, and Yun slapped his temple in punishment before settling his arms, carefully, over Jae-ha’s shoulders, and clasped his hands.  At the count of “ _one_ ,” Jae-ha jumped and soared again, his ponytail swimming in the wind.  Calmly, Yun watched the treetops rush beneath him, saw the bends of rivers and the occasional wingspans of birds smart enough to stay below them.  Whenever Jae-ha landed, barely a breath could leave or enter Yun’s lungs before he was back in his domain, so close to the clouds that Yun sometimes thought that he could reach up and touch one.  This time, however, he was content to hold onto Jae-ha.  He buried his nose in Jae-ha’s shoulder, taking in the scent of the Ryokuryuu.  Over the typical sweat and tang of nature was the aroma of flowers from the perfume Jae-ha liked to wear.  It was almost sickly sweet, but Yun loved it.  He closed his eyes to the sights below, and took in the moments of bliss while he could.  Jae-ha’s warmth, Jae-ha’s smell, Jae-ha’s strength.  He should try to enjoy the simple things when he could, right?

But the trip ended too soon.  When they landed and didn’t immediately take off again, Yun opened his eyes to discover that they were, in fact, grounded.  But not in a field.  Rather, there was the recognizable sound of the hustle and bustle of a marketplace. Instead of ankle-high fields of green, there were cobblestone streets.  Not a herb in sight.

“Jae-ha.”

“Yes?”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Jae-ha, that asshole, dared to laugh.  “Taking you somewhere fun for a change,” he replied as he bent his knees and released Yun’s legs.  Yun jumped down, his feet hitting the paved street, and quickly punched Jae-ha’s ribs.  Frustratingly, his hit had no effect, because Jae-ha remained standing and laughing.

“The only place you needed to take me was a field!” Yun shouted.

“We can still go to the field after this,” Jae-ha smoothly answered.

Steam filled Yun’s chest, rising to his cheeks and becoming fire in his head.  He punched Jae-ha again, twice more for good measure.  Jae-ha kept _laughing_.  What a jerk. “Well, I didn’t bring my money, so this is _useless_!”

“You’re making a scene, you know,” Jae-ha whispered.

As if Jae-ha had just doused him with water, all the heat in Yun dissipated without a trace.  He looked around and saw a variety of people in the marketplace giving them wary glances, obviously unsure about what they should do — go about their business like nothing was happening, or intervene before the apparent argument between the pretty boy and his companion became any worse.  Yun spun on his heel, turning his back to the people, and hid his face behind his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Yun hissed.

“There were other pressing matters,” Jae-ha said.  His hand, large and strong and really soft, ruffled Yun’s hair slightly.  “And don’t worry about the money.”  Yun peaked through his fingers to see Jae-ha pulling out a small pouch from his sleeve. “I came prepared!”

“Y-you…” Yun’s hands fell from his face, shock flooding him.  “You were planning this?”

Jae-ha chuckled.  “Something like that.  I saw the opportunity, so I took it.  Besides, you seemed pretty tense earlier, so I thought it was time to help you relax.” He held out the pouch for Yun, a beautiful, kind smile on his lips.

“I…” Yun took the pouch as carefully as he could.  It wasn’t very heavy, probably only full enough to let him buy at least one or two nice things for himself.  “Thank you.”

Jae-ha chuckled once more.  Except this time, it didn’t annoy Yun.  Rather, he found it to be a lovely, low sound, full of his own brand of adoration. It was the kind of sound Yun would happily listen to for the rest of his life.

“Well, let’s go shopping, then?” Jae-ha asked, ruffling Yun’s hair again.

“Yeah.”  Yun smiled up at his companion.  It may have been just his imagination, but for a moment, he could have sworn he saw a blush on Jae-ha’s cheeks.  “Let’s go!”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> birthday gift for cynicwithatwist on tumblr!

If Hak was asked to pin point the exact moment he fell in love with Yona, he would laugh until the person making the inquiry gave up on an answer.  It wasn’t as if there was no response he could offer, however.  If he asked the Wind Tribe the same question, most of them would tell him one of two answers. _The day you met Yona_ , according to most of the girls who believed so strongly in love at first sight, and to women who had known him since he was a child.   _Sometime when the Princess started getting marriage offers_ , according to everyone else.  Tae-woo liked to call this latter time as the moment when Hak was already in love with Yona, but that his feelings had finally consolidated to the point of absolutely no return.  (At this, Hak would wonder when the hell Tae-woo became so observant.)

In a way, both answers were correct.  Hak was sure he had loved Yona from the day they had met.  He could remember that first meeting clearly.  He had been six years old, had been under Mundeok’s ( _grand_ )fatherly care for two years, and had already started to prove himself as a capable warrior.  Yona had been four years old, so tiny and adorable as she hid behind King Il’s legs, shyly staring at Hak as the adults spoke.  But when Il and Mundeok finally ushered the kids forward to greet one another, Yona had grabbed Hak’s hands, her grip surprisingly resolute, and she had introduced herself and had gone so far as to loudly hope that he would be her friend.

He had fallen for her at that time.  Even if his feelings hadn’t registered as love back then, it couldn’t have been anything else.

From then on, his relationship with Yona had only strengthened, and his heart had come to desire her all the more.  But it wasn’t until well after Tae-jun’s failed proposal that Hak realized that his feelings for Yona had long since stopped being those of friendship.  By then, there was no turning back.  By then, he was her bodyguard.  By then, he had already lost her to Soo-won.

As clearly as a fresh scar, he could recount the very moment he had realized he was in love.  He had been training with Tae-Woo and Han-dae, who were still just kids that still tripped over their feet when they went into their battle stances, and had insulted Han-dae by telling him that the _Princess_ could fight better than him.  But then the image of the Princess bloodied and holding a sword had entered his mind, and while a small part of him had been excited by the idea, the vast majority of him had been terrified by the thought.  He wanted to protect her, more than anything.  He could lose _everything_ , but so long as she was alive and safe, he had known then that he would be fine.  And that was when he knew, beyond a doubt, that he was in love.  And he had dropped his spear and _ran_ because the simultaneous elation and despair filling him in that moment had been too much for him to handle.

Obviously, from then on, there had been no escape.  He had been tempted to leave, oh he most certainly had, but seeing Yona’s face every day had filled him with so much joy that he couldn’t bring himself to break his ties with her.  Eventually, he learned how to give up, to be happy if she was happy, to give his best friend everything Hak wanted but knew that Soo-won deserved.

But then, King Il was murdered.

And Hak lost everything.

But he still had Yona, who was alive and who was safe in his hands, then in Yun’s, then in the dragons’.  And Hak was fine.

If he could be truthful to the point of being a hopeless sap, though, he would admit that he fell in love with Yona every day.  Even when she was a child, even when she was a spoiled princess, even when she had been filled with despair, he had loved her, had cherished her every vice and virtue, and had adored her all the more when she had picked up a bow and arrow and accepted the harshness of reality and hadn’t lost any of her light.  She was someone amazing and irreplaceable.  He loved her more than anything.

So, there was your answer.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Birthday fic for murkymuse!!! feat. gs!Abi who is basically no different from how I would write canon Abi lol + Shuten the dork
> 
> this is my first time writing the originals, surprisingly. let me know how I did!

“My name is Abi.  As you aware by now, I am the warrior chosen by the Blue Dragon god.”

“Heh.  You sure do talk big for someone who collapsed on the battlefield.”

“Now, now, Ryokuryuu, that is the power of Seiryuu.”

“I took out hundreds of more scoundrels that you and Hakuryuu _combined_.”

“She has a point, Ryokuryuu.”

“Ah… So these are the people the gods have chosen.”

That was the first time they spoke to each other.  The battle to save their new master was over, and they had run with Hiryuu thrown over Hakuryuu’s shoulder.  Their red-haired king, a dorky-looking guy by Shuten’s standards, was smiling as he tried to learn everyone’s names.  Ouryuu was tending to the fire, his blue eyes wide & his grin small, but it was difficult not to notice how his hands shook while he poked the firewood with a stick.  Hakuryuu, a huge old man that Shuten already didn’t like, was staring at Hiryuu with an uncomfortable amount of reverence.  And Seiryuu, or Abi as she called herself, was scowling at Shuten, obviously ready to fight him even though she was still paralyzed from the battle & had yet to thank him for carrying her from the danger.  Shuten didn’t like her too much.  Sure, she was pretty and her eyes were breathtakingly _gorgeous,_ but that were her only good points.  “Don’t really need a warrior that gets useless so quickly,” he muttered.

“What about you, Ryoukuryuu?” Hiryuu asked, trying to stop a fight.  "What’s your name?“

"Shuten!” he answered.  "Don’t know about all this having to serve you bullcrap, but being a dragon’s pretty fun.“  Hiryuu’s smile faltered, but he managed to laugh.

"We don’t need a warrior who squanders his duties,” Seiryuu snapped.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Shuten grumbled.  Not even his mother ever talked to him that way!  What a brat!  If he didn’t have something against hitting an ally when they were down, he would’ve had Seiryuu’s face meet the blunt end of his spear.

“And I’m Zeno!” Ouryuu shouted, surprisingly upbeat for someone so obviously shaken by the battlefield.  “I’m just a priest-in-training, so please take care of me!”  Ouryuu bowed comically.  Well, he was a pipsqueak and obviously useless, but Shuten figured he could at least try to get along with Ouryuu out of all these stupid dragons.

“You have a nice name, Zeno,” Hiryuu commented.  A small blush appeared on Ouryuu’s cheeks.  Nope, Shuten wasn’t going to get along well with him _at all_.

Hiryuu turned his head to look at Hakuryuu, who jumped at the sudden eye contact and shyly dodged his gaze.  Shuten wanted to vomit.  “What’s your name, Hakur–”

“Guen!” Hakuryuu shouted before Hiryuu could finish his question.  He smiled, wide and bright (and disgusting), and bowed deeply to Hiryuu.  “I will be your warrior and servant from here on.  It is my greatest pleasure to be able to serve the gods this way.”

Hiryuu moved to his knees and bowed, though not as deeply as Hakuryuu.  “A pleasure to meet you, Guen.  I am excited to know more about you, the man my White Dragon brother chose.”

Hakuryuu rose up only to bow again, this time to the dragons.  “It is wonderful to meet you all, as well, my brothers.”

Yep, Shuten was going to vomit.  “Yeah, let’s all get along,” he grumbled sarcastically.

(He would later regret his decision to not hit Seiryuu, because as soon as the blue warrior was able to move, Shuten’s cheek met the blunt end of her sword.)

 

* * *

 

A year into their journey, traversing broken states to claim the land for Hiryuu’s kingdom and finding followers of Hiryuu, Shuten figured he understood his so-called dragon “brothers” pretty well.  For all his kowtowing and exuberance towards Hiryuu, Hakuryuu had a short temper and _terrible_ taste in food.  He could be ridiculously nice, but that never stopped him from being completely brutal on the battlefield.  He was the eldest of four kids, so he instinctively took care of everyone younger than him, and since he came from a village in the middle of nowhere, he had the strangest tastes in food (Shuten had never known anyone who could eat meat completely _raw_ until he met Hakuryuu).  Overall, though, if they were both drunk and in the mood for finding some ladies, Shuten could get along plenty well with him.

Hiryuu was an idiot, but Shuten loved him.  Sure, it was definitely the dragon blood that drew him to the god-turned-human, but Shuten figured he would’ve liked Hiryuu regardless of if he had been chosen to be a warrior or not.  He knew so many things, from the age of mountains to the origins of rituals, and he worried for Shuten more than anyone ever had, so Shuten loved him.  He would give anything to stay by Hiryuu’s side forever.

Ouryuu was useless, in every sense of the word.  Couldn’t fight, couldn’t run very fast, didn’t even have powers!  He only knew simple things like how to skin animals, farming, and everything related to priesthood.  The only thing Shuten found remotely interesting about him was the fact that Ouryuu knew how to read, a skill Shuten never had the time to acquire.  But there was no way in hell Shuten would bother to ask Ouryuu to teach him, not when Shuten was already going out of his way to teach Ouryuu (and Hiryuu) how to fight.  But Ouryuu was also easy to talk to, always had an ear open for listening, and reminded Shuten of home sometimes.  Shuten would never admit it, but he didn’t mind Ouryuu’s presence in the slightest.

Seiryuu was the enigma.  She was a puzzle that Shuten couldn’t quite figure out.  Despite her noble status, she wielded a sword with skill and precision, so much so that she appeared to be dancing while in battle.  Despite her power easily being the strongest of the group’s, she could couldn’t use it often unless she was scouting.  Despite her cool exterior, she would fight with Shuten at the smallest of jabs.  It was like walking into enemy territory everytime Shuten engaged her.  And she only kept surprising him.

“You can call me by name,” she suddenly said one day while Hiryuu was at the market with Hakuryuu and Ouryuu.  Hiryuu’s castle was in the beginning stages of being built, and Seiryuu insisted on watching over its progress.  Shuten, with nothing better to do and nothing to buy, was walking the castle grounds with her.

“I already do,” Shuten responded.

“I mean my _birth_ name, imbecile,” Seiryuu snapped.  “The one I told you when we met.”

“No way,” Shuten immediately replied.

Seiryuu furrowed her eyebrows, her mouth turning into a tight frown as she looked up at him.  “Why not?”

“Because it’d be weird to start calling you _Abi_ after a whole year of _Seiryuu.”_

Seiryuu sighed, aggravation heavy in her breath, and stared at the path ahead of her.  “That is fair, I guess.  After all, it took me quite a bit of practice for me to become accustomed to saying _your_ name.”

“Eh?  Which one?”

“Shuten.”

Shuten decided to ignore the way his chest tightened at the sound of someone other than Hiryuu calling him by birth name.  “It’s gross hearing you say that.”

Seiryuu scrunched her nose.  “Now that you mention it, I believe I’d be disgusted hearing you say my name, too.”

“Do you wanna fight?” he asked, immediately irked.

She shook her head.  “You’ve been letting me win lately.”

“Like hell I am!”  Sure, he had been going a bit easier on her, because he didn’t want to hurt her, but there was no way he’d _let_ her win.

“Either way, it’s boring to keep winning.”

“Oi, you’re asking for it now.”

Before Shuten could grab the back of Seiryuu’s collar, she stopped and turned his way.  He stepped back out of surprise.  “I changed my mind,” she said, her face trained into its typical impenetrable expression.  “I want to know what my name sounds like coming from you.”

He stared at her, waiting for some sign that she was lying, but when he found nothing, he chuckled.  “What’s this all of a sudden?  Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me, Seiryuu- _chan_.”

“Call me Seiryuu-chan again and I’ll murder you.”

He laughed and decided it wouldn’t hurt to at least give it a try.  “Abi.”

Her eyes widened, eyebrows raising, a tint of pink appearing on her cheeks.  If he was any other person, Shuten would’ve kissed that expression.  Before he could try anything, though, a fist suddenly collided with his cheek, and he heard Abi shout, “Disgusting!” before running away.

Oh, she was _definitely_ asking for it.  “Get back here so I can beat you up, Seiryuu- _chan_!” he yelled after her.  Sure enough, Abi turned around and started storming right at him.  He dropped his spear and held up his fists, ready to absolutely _not_ let her win.

(He would much rather their relationship stay like this forever, anyway.)

 

* * *

 

Hiryuu was dead.  They had little reason to stay anymore.  Especially after Abi was– ah, it still hurt him just to think about it.  She was kidnapped for her eyes, almost killed for it, and he had heard her cry all too much ever since.  One snowy morning, the dragons said their goodbyes, brothers until the end, but no longer together.

Shuten wasn’t sure who he missed more, Hiryuu or Abi.  He was glad he was able to see both of their faces before their respective departures, and that he could still sense Abi, see her light when he closed his eyes, but it wasn’t the same.  Old age had made him such a sap, he could barely believe he used to want to fight her rather than hold her.  What an idiot.

He grabbed his cloak and pulled it tighter around his body.  He was never good with the cold.  He grew up near the sea, where the winter came with a few weeks of snow before a long period of temperate cool.  Living so far inland had exposed him to one too many long, freezing winters, and the cold had come to hurt him down to his very bones.  To think he would get to live until _this_ miserable state.

Luckily, the snow wasn’t very heavy that day, so he could find a place to settle down and warm himself up by the afternoon.

So caught up in his thoughts, Shuten almost didn’t notice Abi’s presence coming closer and clearer in his mind until she was right next to him.  He started, nearly jumped away from her, but he managed to stay put.  “What the hell are you doing here, Seiryuu?  I thought we were going our separate ways!”

Abi was silent for so long, he nearly began to believe she was just a figment of his imagination.  But then she reached for her blindfold and pulled it off, revealing the gorgeous eyes that could only ever belong to her.  They were a bit red around the rims from her crying, but she was so pretty regardless.  “I wanted you to promise me something…” she said, so softly he had to move close to her just to hear.

“What is it?” he asked, planting his spear into the ground so his hands could be free for her.  He didn’t know why, but he felt more comfortable without anything in his hands when he was around her.

“Promise me that you’ll come find me.”

“What?  Is something wrong?”  Her words were dangerously close to asking him to _save_ her.  Did she sell herself for protection during her travels or something?  Did she make a huge mistake and needed someone to rescue her?  His mind was racing with answers, each one worse than the last.

“I simply…” Tears welled up in Abi’s eyes again.  “I simply am not ready for this to end.  I don’t want to let go of you all so soon.”  The tears began to fall from her eyes, and Shuten clasped his hands on her cheeks, as if trying to stop the flow.  “Promise me you’ll come see me someday soon.  I don’t want my last memory of my brothers to be so bitter.”

Despite the situation, Shuten found himself chuckling.  “That’s all?”

“Why are you laughing?!” Abi shouted.  She hit him on the head, but he didn’t mind.

“You were serious, I was worried you had sold yourself or something else terrible.”  Shuten sighed his relief and pressed his forehead to Abi’s.  “Of course I’ll come see you soon.  I don’t want to let go you, either.”  He closed his eyes and smiled.  Somehow, he felt so much warmer just because she was there.

“Since when were you so cordial?” Abi asked.  Despite the anger in her tone, her hands came to hold his, keeping him close.

 _When I fell for you_ , he thought.  “Who the hell knows?” he said with a snort.

Abi chuckled softly.  “I like you better when you’re this way.  Try not to change again.”

“Aye aye, Abi-chan.”

She released one of his hands to hit his head again.  He laughed and moved to hug her.  She accepted his embrace with her arms around his neck.  “I’ll only welcome you if you stop calling me Abi-chan.”

“Not a chance.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to get used to the name.”

It would not the last time they spoke to each other, but it would be the last time they spoke as brothers.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said: Kyo-ga thinks it would be a good idea to start building friendly relationships with the other generals. This would help them in coming battles. He decides to start with Tae-woo. Hilarity ensues.
> 
> Note: This is set during and after the Five Tribes meeting when Soo-won declared war on Kin Province!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you end up shipping kyo-ga and tae-woo then i have both #succeeded and fallen into a weird crack ship with you

Kan Kyo-ga had been to meetings of the Five Generals before.   His father, always one to think for the future rather than the present, had occasionally taken Kyo-ga to the meetings, typically when a new general was introduced.  It was for the sake of training, his father had said.  To ensure that Kyo-ga would not be unfamiliar with all the Generals when he took the helm of the Fire Tribe.  As fragmented as the Five Tribes were before King Soo-won, it was at least basic protocol to know each and every one of them, as well as their potential successors, if available.

            This was his first meeting as the Fire Tribe General, however.  His father was not available, not able to step in for negotiations or introductions as he had once done for Kyo-ga.  No, his father, Kan Soo-jin, was in the ground, given a traitor’s funeral, not even allowed a memorial tablet so his family could properly mourn his departed soul.  Kyo-ga was alone at the grand table, the son of an almost-usurper, the only Fire Tribe representative.  His brother, Tae-jun, was back in Saika, doing more good for their Tribe than Kyo-ga and their father had ever done.  Moreover, there was someone he did not know at the meeting – the new Wind Tribe General, Tae-woo.  Kyo-ga knew former General Mun-deok, and he had met the successor, Hak.  But his knowledge of Tae-woo amounted to nothing more than his name and his position as Mun-deok’s second successor.  The boy looked similar to his predecessor, Son Hak, with the same cold blue eyes, shock of black hair, and purely _bored_ expression.  Kyo-ga made a mental note to become acquainted with the boy as soon as possible.

            Kyo-ga’s only comfort at this meeting was the arsenal of familiar faces, belonging to people he knew for certain held no contempt for him because of his father’s sins.  Earth Tribe General Lee Geun-tae sat beside him, apparently taking the meeting as nothing more than the perfect opportunity to sell his wife’s tea.  Personally, Kyo-ga quite liked the way the so-called Yun-ho Tea smelled and tasted, and while Geun-tae and Sky Tribe General Han Joo-doh argued, Kyo-ga found himself pouring a second cup.

           Regardless of how soothing the tea was, and how nicely familiar it was to hear Geun-tae’s usual jabs, Kyo-ga found himself annoyed and frustrated.  The Generals, mostly made up of men _older_ than Kyo-ga (a proud 29 year old), were squabbling like children, keeping the meeting from going anywhere at all.  In the past, most of the meetings Kyo-ga had gone to with his father had been run-of-the-mill meetings, annual check-ups on the state of Kouka’s affairs, as held by the cowardly King Il.  They were boring, tedious things.  So, by comparison, this meeting of the Five Tribes was a _circus_.  Kyo-ga was suddenly much more grateful that Tae-jun, despite being the temporary head of the Tribe, was _not_ invited.  If he had been there in the place of Kyo-ga, surely the situation would only be worse.

            Finishing his tea, Kyo-ga slammed the cup onto its saucer, loud enough to silence the rowdy Generals, but careful enough to not break the delicate porcelain.  “As a newcomer, I apologize for interrupting,” he began, glaring at the men through his long bangs.  “…But…are the Five Tribe meetings…always…like this?”

            After a quick jab at Kyo-ga’s seriousness from General Geun-tae, King Soo-won finally began the meeting, carrying on in his usual, deceptively lax manner.  Kyo-ga was sure to express his appreciation at the mention of the calm that graced the Fire Tribe, in spite of the late General Soo-jin’s treason.  The grief that immediately settled in his stomach, however, was quickly blown away by declaration of war on the Kin Province of Southern Kai, soon followed by the steadfast resolution by General Joon-gi to lend the Water Tribe’s powers to Kouka’s purposes — from a man Kyo-ga had long dismissed as a coward, much like the late King Il.  He could barely restrain the shock that resonated throughout his body as he watched the Five Tribes, once fragmented and on the brink of falling apart, come together for a war, a brutality banned by the previous King.  Kyo-ga could hardly believe that his own father had deemed Soo-won an unfit man for the throne.

            Resolutions made, the meeting quickly transitioned to planning.  Much to Kyo-ga’s surprise, the Fire Tribe was asked to lead the vanguard, right at the frontlines.  The soldiers who had rather recently been paired with Li Hazara’s troops to take down King Soo-won were assigned to rampage Kai, the very land Li Hazara hailed from.  Kyo-ga accepted without hesitation.  Anything to prove himself.  He was the General of the Fire Tribe, but that was in name only.  Studying in Kuuto, leagues away from Saika, his sole way of leading the Tribe was through correspondence with his representative, his brother, Tae-jun, who had the freedom to do what he wished with the Tribe, in addition to Kyo-ga’s will.  Kyo-ga could hardly call himself a leader.  But if he was given reign of his military again?  Surely, that would have him one step closer to being a true General.

            The Wind Tribe, meanwhile, was asked not to lend its troops.  Tae-woo was still new to the position of General.  There was much he had left to learn, both as a military commander and a Tribe leader.  Rather, the Wind Tribe would be on the defensive, leaving troops in the northeast and southeast borders of Kouka, far from the area of actual battle.  Kyo-ga could only guess that the King wished to ensure the borders were secure in case anyone from Northern Kai or Xing decided Kouka’s invasion of Southern Kai presented a good opportunity to attack King Soo-won’s territory.

            It was nearing midday when the meeting was finally ended.  All that was left was a formal declaration of war, which was up to the Kei-shuk to draft.  The generals were free to do as they wished around Hiryuu Castle or Kuuto, or to even temporarily return to their respective Tribes if need be.  It would take several days for the declaration of war to reach Southern Kai and several more days for a response to be sent to Kuuto.  There would be plenty of time for the Generals to do as they needed to prepare for the battle.  Kyo-ga resigned himself to the library, to continue his studying and write a letter to Tae-jun so his brother could handle army preparations in Kyo-ga’s place.

            On his way to the library, however, he found himself running into General Tae-woo.  Quite literally, as it was.  When he rounded the corner to make his way into the West Hall of Hiryuu Castle, Tae-woo’s face collided with Kyo-ga’s shoulder.  Immediately, Kyo-ga reached for Tae-woo’s arm, keeping him from falling.

            Not that he actually needed it.

            “Uh… sorry?” Tae-woo mumbled uncertainly.  In spite of the collision, he was standing without any trouble, as though he hadn’t almost fallen back.  Well, that was to be expected of the Wind Tribe.  They all had reflexes twice that of a tiger.

            “Ah, my apologies,” Kyo-ga replied as he quickly released Tae-woo’s arm.  Between them was three steps, and Kyo-ga walked up them to be on the same level as Tae-woo.  The Wind General was much shorter than him, forcing Kyo-ga to incline his head to make eye contact.  “Where were you off to?”

            Tae-woo made space between them by taking two tiny steps away, moving toward the wall.  “Nowhere, really.  The meeting was really boring, so I was running to wake myself up.”

            Anger twitched inside Kyo-ga.  Tae-woo had found such a landmark meeting _boring_?  Did he not understand the significance of the war?  Or of the Five Tribes coming together?  How could he _possibly_ have been Mun-deok’s (and Son Hak’s) successor?  The familiar urge to shout and scold jumped into Kyo-ga’s throat.  But he swallowed it down, if only out of respect for his fellow new-comer General.  “Ah… I see,” he said, hearing the tenseness in his own voice.

            A small frown appeared on Tae-woo’s face.  The space between his eyebrows wrinkled ever so slightly.  Silence grew between them.  Tae-woo chose to speak first.  “Well, if that’s all you need me for, I’m gonna go now.”

            “Actually,” Kyo-ga interjected, before Tae-woo could take his leave, “I was hoping to make your acquaintance.  I’ve never met you before, but you are a new General, like myself.”

            Tae-woo lifted a brow.  “Name’s Tae-woo.  Wind Tribe General.  Seventeen.  I have no interest in pursuing a gay relationship with you.”

            **_What_**.  “Wh-where did you get such an idea?!” Kyo-ga sputtered out, that twinge of anger returning at full force.

            Tae-woo started counting on his fingers.  “You grabbed my arm when I bumped into you.”  He pressed the tips of his pointer fingers to indicate Kyo-ga’s first charge of homosexual behavior.

            “I thought you were about to fall!” Kyo-ga retorted.

            “Uh-huh.”  Tae-woo sounded unconvinced.  He moved the tip of his pointer finger to the tip of his middle finger, counting Kyo-ga’s second charge.  “You basically cornered me against a wall.”

            “You’re the one who moved to the wall in the first place!” Kyo-ga balled his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms, attempting to distract his fury.  Despite Tae-woo’s outrageous claims, he was still a General — he was Kyo-ga’s equal, so it would be disgraceful of Kyo-ga to do him any harm.  Regardless of how much he deserved a punch at the moment.

            “That’s true, but I’m still going to hold it against you,” Tae-woo replied.  He counted the third charge on his ring finger.  “You want to ‘make my acquaintance’ even though we met during that meeting.  That’s practically the same as asking to court me.”

            Kyo-ga took in a deep breath through his nose.  This boy was _impossible_.  “For your information, I am not a homosexual.”

            “Until Kusanagi introduces a love interest for you, the jury will still be out on that.”

            “General Tae-woo…” Kyo-ga grumbled.

            “Yes?”

            “I’m going to punch you.”

            “Only if you can catch me.”  Tae-woo quickly turned on his foot and began running off.

            But all Kyo-ga had to do was reach out and grab Tae-woo’s collar before he could even take a second step away.

            “What the--?!” Tae-woo looked behind him, his expression finally changing from incredulous and bored to surprised and terrified.  “How come you’re so fast?!”

            Kyo-ga glared at him.  “I have a younger brother.  He’s much faster than you when he’s scared.”

            Tae-woo stared at him in silence for a few moments before breaking out into a scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly had no intention of making this even remotely gay it just kinda happened


End file.
